


The Palace Orphan

by emryskynobi



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe, Always A Girl!Loki, F/M, M/M, but comfortable in shape shifting to
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-08
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2017-12-26 00:00:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 70,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/959168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emryskynobi/pseuds/emryskynobi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Realms have once more been reset after Ragnarök and while some things change, many things remain the same.  Odin finds Fárbauti after she's given birth to Loki and she charges him to raise her daughter.  This is Loki's story.</p>
<p>Chapter 12: </p>
<p>
  <i> “Hela?” Jack called into the darkness.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Jack O’Neill,” the voice flowed like crystal water. Rasped like sandpaper over a harsh surface and Logan winced, dialing back as he’d learned from a young man who’d thought he was a sentinel before accepting that he was merely a mutant. “It has been some time since last we met. And I would say more but time is of the essence. My mother-father is in danger. And the one known as Anthony Stark is in danger because of it.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Can you say more?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Her head shook, sadness in every move. “It is my fault that she is in danger. I never meant for this to happen.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“For what?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“He’s back,” she said. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginnings of it All

**Author's Note:**

> In this tale, I make Fárbauti a Vanir since Laufey is to well known in the MCU as Loki’s father. Maybe some day I shall restore the two of them to their proper places. And the MCU made Malekith an Asgard when he’s a Dark Elf.

* * *

 

Odin grasped hold of the casket, thankful for once in his existence for his half-giant status and turned around before his ear heard the faint gasp.  A cry of pain, asking for help on the faintest of sounds but it sounded genuine and he could not turn away.  With the Casket of Ancient Winters in one hand, he moved towards the source of the cry.  A young Vanir lay, a newborn child pushed free from her womb.

 

The child was blue with the beginnings of its life lines decorating the left side of its face.  But the eyes…the eyes were green – the living green of its mother.

 

Placing the casket down where it would remain in his sight before he walked closer and knelt beside her body.  A gentle touch awakened the dying woman and he recognized her, the Princess Fárbauti.  She who had been captured by Laufey, she had been the linchpin of the alliance between his people and the Vanir against the Frost Giants.

 

For years he’d known that only their two races uniting as one would have the power to fight and defeat the Frost Giants as they made moves to destroy and conqueror the universe.  But the Vanir wouldn’t listen to him.  They were peaceful people, more into the work of growing and nurturing things than in fighting, though there were exceptions in their ranks as with all beings.  Even married to Frigg, one of their own, they had not heeded to his warnings.

 

And the cost to them had been dear.

 

“Take my child, my Luka…my Loki,” she coughed, struggling to get the words out.  “Don’t let Laufey have my baby.  Please, don’t let my father lay hands upon her.  They would use my child for evil purposes.”

 

“Princess Fárbauti,” he began but stopped, knowing she was right.  Laufey would only have a baby for such intent.  And the king of the Vanir, well, he would try not to do harm.  But seeing the child Laufey had forced his daughter to bear…it would twist him in the end.

 

“Please,” she begged, “If for no other reason than to unite our worlds in peace.”

 

“Our worlds?” he asked.

 

She coughed, struggling against death’s encroaching grasp.  “Laufey is not too bad once you get to know him.  But he would…would be disappointed that I did not bear him a son.  Luka…Loki is going to be unique and powerful for…chaos is in her hands.  Laufey wanted her to be…different from other Frost children.  He…he wanted more of my heritage…than his own…to be in her.”

 

Odin felt bad about pushing her when she was so frail, was dying but he had to know.  “If he could control all of that, why did he not make sure of a boy?”

 

“Because…I was the one who ultimately controlled…all that went into her creation,” she whispered.  The death rattle was in her voice now.  “And I wanted a girl.  I…concealed the truth from him.  Though it was…not my intent…I believe that I…made a shape shifter with my tricks.”

 

“You’ve never trusted me, so why give me this gift?”  For a gift it was no matter who the father was or what kind of machinations had gone into the making of her.

 

“I trust…Frigg to do…right. Name her Loki,” she said before her eyes closed forever in sleep.

 

* * *

 

Loki sat, a stone tablet in her lap.  Below her, Thor played with his friends.  A strange pain filled her as she watched the five wrestle on the ground, especially watching Sif.  The woman easily held her own against them and she wondered how long it would be before her grandmother, Lady Ran, tried to arrange for a marriage to try to cure her of her foolishness.  She wished her all the luck but knew that it was hopeless.

 

Sif would conform to the idea of modest maiden on the day that Loki became a fan of blood sports.

 

As she watched them though, she envied the ease they had with each other.  She may have a silken tongue but it meant nothing when she was around those she most cared for.  Half growling at her thoughts, she refocused on the runes before her.  With effort, she was able to forget the ruckus below her and study the work placed before her.  A hand casually formed a glowing globe as clouds covered the sky, darkening the afternoon.

 

“That girl is peculiar,” a voice interrupted her reading.

 

“Hush,” another voice said, sounding nervous.

 

“Oh, come on,” a third voice said.  This one Loki recognized easily – Freyja.  Though she’d been sent to the goddess of love to continue her training in certain areas, the two women did not get along.  Loki thought it was a confidence, power issue.  “You don’t expect us to believe that Odin All Father actually **_cares_** about the Palace foundling.  She’s just one of many, Eira.  And, if I’m not mistaken, wasn’t she once Prince Thor’s whipping boy?”

 

“I cannot speak for the All Father but we must be cautious.  While it is true that she was punished in Prince Thor’s stead, he cares for her.  His attitude about her is deeply loyal,” Eira replied, bitterness in her voice.  “He has not spoken to Sigrid since she mocked Loki seventy years ago over something rather mild.”

 

“But he seems to be a forgiving fellow,” the one unnamed female said.  “Why would he take on so over such a pathetic creature?”

 

“Well, he is a man – easily swayed by certain feminine traits, Brunhilde,” Freyja smirked knowingly.  Though she deeply loved Od, her missing spouse, the goddess also loved men, women, and anything that caught her eye.  She had well earned her reputation in the sexual arts.  “Or may be he likes pitiful things.”

 

“Only you, Freyja, would be able to get away with such boldness,” Eira said, voice hushed.

 

“I’m his father’s equal – Thor can’t cut me,” she smugly replied.

 

Brunhilde shook her head, “That doesn’t mean he won’t try.”

 

Loki slowly rose and faded away, unwilling to listen to anymore.  She’d heard enough.  Going to her room, she sank onto her bed after carefully placing the tablet on a desk.  Thor was making enemies and it was all her fault.  Somehow she had to make it right because this couldn’t be allowed to continue.  Thor was to be king, even if she personally felt that Baldur, though he was several years younger than her and Thor, was more suited for the task.

 

Baldur combined the best traits of Frigg and Odin, calm and thoughtful, methodical and merciful, and yet, he could fight when necessary, she often wished he was the elder brother.

 

“Loki!” Thor boomed as he entered her room.  “Why didn’t you join us?  We would’ve made room.”

 

“Sorry, Prince Thor, but you know I’ve never been found of games that’s whole purpose is the needless spilling of blood for the entertainment of the masses.”

 

He frowned.  “You are not a normal woman, you do realize that.  How can you not glory in battle?”

 

She shrugged, hiding her wince.  “If it was true battle, then you know you would always find me at your side.  I have never known why you delight in mock battles outside of the practice grounds.  Guess you’ll have to make do with the Valkyries and Lady Sif.”  She bit her lip, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

 

“Oh, you meant it all right.”  His words, for once, were accurate.

 

“Well, I shouldn’t have used the words that I did,” she sarcastically conceded.  “Not that I mind your company but what are you doing here?”

 

Sitting down on her bed, he ignored her displeased look as she rolled into him.  His body mass always disturbed her comfortable mattress and it took days for it to settle back to normal.  He didn’t know why she bothered when a spell would easily fix the problem.  But he’d stopped asking, knowing he’d hear her parrot his father’s speech about misusing power.

 

“Do I have to have a reason to visit you?”

 

“How did you anger Lady Sif this time?” she shrewdly guessed.

 

“What makes you think it was m?” he protested.

 

“It’s always you,” she pointed out.  “While the last thing that can be said of her is cowardice, she has a great deal of respect towards you because of your position and because you are her friend.  Therefore, she would never start anything – just finish it.”

 

“She wishes to join the Valkyries.”

 

“A worthy goal for a warrior such as she,” she replied.  “I don’t see a cause for fighting.”

 

“She’s a maiden of noble rank – the Valkyries are not so highly placed.  She cannot become one.”

 

“And you told her that truth.”

 

“I merely pointed out the reality of her life.”

 

“Prince Thor,” she began and a chime cut her off.

 

Leaping to his feet, he stood ready to defend her.  “What is that?”

 

She fell into the depression left by his body and glared up at him.  “An alarm set to go off should anyone approach my chambers who is not you,” she soothingly said, keeping an eye on him.  Rising, she stood in front of a polished brass plate and whispered a word.  The figure coming down the hall was revealed to them and she sent him a mischievous look, “Ah, it’s the Lady Sif.  Shall I invite her in?”

 

“If you do, I won’t be responsible for our actions,” he threatened.  His look at her tablets and vials, potions and various other items was pointed.

 

With a sigh, she nodded.  “I’ll see what she wants.  You just stay out of trouble, okay?”

 

Giving her an incredulous look, he sat back down and waited for Loki to take care of the problem.  She always did.

 

“Lady Sif,” she started.

 

“Don’t you start with me, Loki.”

 

Loki took a step back, startled by the anger directed her way.  “I’m sorry?”  It was a question for she was not quite sure of why she should be apologizing for doing something Sif always wnated her to do.  “But, if I might continue to be so annoying, I will point out that you’ve often threatened me if I forget to show you proper respect.”

 

“I don’t need your attitude today.”

 

“Obviously not,” she murmured.  “What do you need?” she cautiously asked, quite sure that she did not actually wish to know.

 

Sif paced the outer room, glancing nervously about her.  Loki watched, arms crossed as she leaned against the wall, utterly amused by the warrior’s obvious agitation.  But she did not let it show.  Loki was many things but she was not foolish enough to want to be on the receiving end of Sif’s anger.  And there was a small part of her that was worried because she was not behaving with her normal ice calm.  There was an almost manic light in Sif’s eyes that did not sit well with Loki.

 

“Prince Thor has probably told you of my desire to be a Valkyrie,” she said.  “He reminded me of my rank.  I want you to fix it.”

 

“What?” she stupidly asked.

 

“Fix it,” she repeated, coming to stand in front of her.  Her dark eyes snapped with belligerent fire and yet, there was a hint of uncertainty.  There were a great many reasons it could be there but the most obvious one was that she was seeking aid from Loki – and one never knew what the cost of such actions would be.

 

“Your birthright?” she questioned, trying to get some clarification.  “Sif, only your parents can change that.  And since you, like your brother, do not know who your father may be, that is a little difficult for your grandparents will hear no ill spoken of their daughters, the Nine Waves.  And they do not wish to speak of your father either.”

 

“Then change my circumstances someway,” she demanded.  “You can accomplish such a task.  I know the way your devil mind works.”

 

“Thanks,” Loki sarcastically said.  “The only way to do that would be to ruin your reputation.”

 

“Oh, you’re no help.”  Sif stomped off, then stopped and faced her.  A grin unlike any Loki had seen before crossed her face.  Shivers ran down her spine and Loki wasn’t sure if it was because of fear or anticipation.  “You know what, I believe that you may have something with that idea.  Come with me.”

 

“Now?” it was a disbelieving question.

 

“No, after we set a date,” her reply was cutting, “Of course now.  Don’t be so slow, Loki.”

 

“Am I at least allowed to know where?”

 

Sif paused, looked thoughtful, then grabbed her arm and dragged her out.  “No.”

 

“Oh, well, all right then,” Loki’s response was snide and she hoped Thor would take the opportunity to escape.  Escape and hang out with the other three morons he called friends, letting them help him forget this fiasco.

 

They entered the spell room of the goddess of magic, she who was only known as the Völva by all in the realms.  Loki looked about them uneasily.  Though she’d been here before, it was always in the presence of her mentor.  She hadn’t yet gotten to the point were she was daring enough – or foolish enough – to explore on her own.  The last thing she wanted was to be barred from the chambers that felt more like home to her than the rest of the palace though it lacked the elegance and cleanliness of the palace.

 

“Sif, what are we doing?” she hissed, keeping an eye out for Cat – the mentor’s unimaginatively named familiar.

 

“Looking for a spell,” Sif snapped.  “Now, will you please silence your tongue and start searching.”

 

“A spell to do what?” she asked.  “Do you know how many spells there are in this room?”

 

“Loki, you’ve never been stupid nor dull witted.  What have we been talking about?”

 

Slowly, she started to read through some scrolls and runic stones.  There were any number of ways she could accomplish this task but none would be easy.  Or simple enough to convince Sif to let her do such spells, such trust between them did not exist.  “You want to cast a spell to ruin your reputation?”

 

“Only temporarily until I prove my worth,” she replied.

 

Exhaling a breath, she shook her head.  “Spells don’t work like that, Lady Sif.  They permanently change one until the counter spell is given.  And then the effects of the spell are rendered null and void.”

 

A smirk crossed her face, “Illusions aren’t temporary?”

 

“Illusions are not spells,” she snapped.  “They are a different kind of seidr altogether.  What you are talking about requires the casting of a spell that changes the structure of your life entirely.  It either changes you from a legitimately born child into one not born in wedlock or changes you from their child to one taken in but not legally made theirs or you wish to cast doubt upon the purity of your body that would make you appear unmarriageable or affect some other kind of change that would have the same result.  Such illusions would not last long without damage to you personally, either because you would bear the brunt of the magical shielding or through your parents’ honor being brought into question.”

 

“Then modify the spell,” she ordered.  “That’s what you’re good at.”

 

“Modify?” she repeated, shaking her head.  “I’m an **_apprentice_** right now.  Do you know what that means, Sif?”

 

Sif growled.  She actually growled.  “You are being very unhelpful, Loki.  And you saying that you are an apprentice is like saying the All Father is just a simple god.”

 

Loki surrendered, seeing no victory here.  “All right.  Do you have any idea of what you’d like to do?  There are many ways to damage a reputation that won’t remain in a state of ill-repair.”

 

“I need something done to the point that my grandparents can’t force me into accepting any solution other than the one I present to them.”

 

“That being a Valkyrie,” Loki said.  “May I ask why you just don’t enlist?  Though you do know that in their off times, they are serving maidens to the warriors in the Golden Halls of Valhalla.  You can’t stand getting your friends a drink out of courtesy, how do you think you will be able to accomplish this task?”

 

“Serving drinks to warriors is a part of the duties that would be mine.  It would not be because I am a woman.  As for why…Prince Thor may be oblivious to much but he is correct about my noble birth preventing me from following my dream.  My mothers can always refuse.  They are not fond of fighting, preferring to drown their enemies.  No, I can’t merely enlist.  It has to be something big enough to get me into the core – and out of the plan to marry Prince Thor.”

 

“You don’t wish to marry him?”  This was news to Loki – would, in fact, be news to the entire court.  Most thought the warrior was using her training as a warrior as a means to get to him.  To get Prince Thor to see her not only as a woman but as a warrior he could safely leave in charge of Asgard when he left to perform his duties in the other Realms.  An equal who could stand by his side in battle and a woman who was more than capable of taking care of any threat that dared to show up on their world.

 

Sif looked thoughtful, as if she’d never really contemplated the idea.  “When I marry – and who I marry – it will be on **_my_** terms if I even choose to do so.  Mine, Loki, not my grandmother’s.  Not my grandfather’s or my brother’s – not even the great Prince Thor’s terms.  It will be because of my choice.”

 

“May be you should petition to be a goddess of war – you are certainly dangerous enough,” Loki pointed out, trying to think of a way out of this mess.  And it would be a mess, she could see the disaster warning all over this endeavor.  She **_knew_** she’d get blamed, even punished for anything that happened.

 

“I want to prove my worth, not have it given to me.  You make it possible, Loki.”  There was an unspoken threat in her voice and manner.

 

Loki sighed.  “If it’ll make you happy.”

 

Sif leaned closer.  And though Loki was taller than the other woman, in that moment she felt much smaller.  It was a most unpleasant feeling and reminded her just why she didn’t like being alone with her.  “More importantly, it’ll make **_you_** happy because **_I_** won’t be following you.  I won’t be looming over you constantly.  I won’t be nagging you.”

 

“Right,” she nodded.  “There is that benefit.”  Loki let out a sigh of relief when she was left to her own devices.  What in Valhalla was she **_supposed_** to do?  She didn’t want to hurt Sif’s reputation irreparably – if at all.  It was not the sort of thing that the All Father could easily overlook.  The punishment alone for such actions…well, they would fit the level of the crime now wouldn’t they?

 

**_But_** her sense of self-preservation was strong.  It always had been.  And she knew that if she didn’t, Sif **_would_** make good on her threat.  She would never know another day of peace.  Between Sif and Thor, she’d go crazy.

 

“Is there a reason you have disrupted my chambers outside of practice hours?”

 

“I’m looking for something, Lady,” she replied and bowed.

 

“And have you found it?”

 

Loki shook her head.  “No, Lady, I have not.  In all honesty, I do not know what it is that I’m searching for.”

 

“Be careful what doors you open, Loki, for some will put you on a path that you and your friends are ill prepared to face.”

 

“I don’t understand.”  And truly, Loki didn’t.  The Völva never said anything for no reason.  Words – like names – held power when spoken by one of seidr.

 

“Queen Frigg wishes to speak with you,” the woman said, ignoring Loki’s words.  “I believe it is on a matter of some grave importance.  It would be unwise of you to keep her waiting.”

 

Loki knew a dismissal when she heard one.  “Thank you,” she bowed and left.  Entering the private garden of the Queen, she walked over to her and curtsied to the All Mother, trying to read her expression.  “How may I be of best service to you, my Queen?”

 

Frigg finished pruning the rose bush in front of her.  Turning slowly, she sat back and studied this young lady in front of her.  Loki had been slowly transforming from a troublesome kid with legs too long for her short body to a woman whose Vanir heritage had been slowly coming forward.  She would never have the actual beauty of that race, the Jotun in her would prevent it from ever developing.  Loki’s face would always be to sharp and angular for true beauty.

 

Still, there was something aesthetically appealing about her.

 

And she was not alone in noticing the changes in her charge.

 

“Kneel beside me and help me,” she invited.  Watching the hesitant way the girl knelt down, she wondered if it was awkwardness because she was still growing into her body.  Or if Loki feared her.

 

Though such a thing was ridiculous , Frigg had to consider the possibility of it.  After all, she was the All Mother and the high wife to Odin.  Only the most foolish chose to disrespect the Queen of the awesome Odin.  She was, after all, the only one Odin truly feared.  Though gentle in nature, she was also a fierce warrior.  The Valkyries may answer to Odin but they were trained by her.

 

Loki had not expected this and waited in silence, tending to the plants as her mother’s people had done before her.  The soil felt good, clean, beneath her hands.  After a few moments of working in silence, she cleared her throat.  “Your majesty, why have you summoned me?  I will do my best to aid you but I cannot do so until you tell me how.”

 

Here, Loki paused and looked at the closet thing to a mother she knew.  A tight smile crossed her face and she was aware that there was a strained look in her eyes.  “Is it something I’ve done?” she quietly asked, knowing of many deeds that had been mistakenly laid at her feet.  She’d long since given up fighting and claiming innocence.  It never helped.

 

At one time, it had been amusing.  She liked to see how far her reputation extended and just how far to push the boundary lines of what was expected, what would be tolerated, what would be excused, - and which would bring her the closest to the inevitable _don’t cross_ line.  It was insane, of course, but she had never been anything less than chaotic order.

 

“No, I merely desired the pleasure of your company.”  Frigg smiled.  “Do you have someplace to be?  Somewhere more important?”

 

Loki shook her head.  “No, just that the Völva made it seem as though your need to see me was urgent.”

 

“Perhaps that had more to do with you being in her chambers than any true emergency.  Loki, you know that you are not to be in there without either her permission or her presence.”

 

She hung her head, unwilling to let the Queen see the anger that she was being taken to task for doing something she hadn’t wanted to in the first place.

 

“So why were you?” Frigg asked.

 

There was a moment of hesitation, “Just doing some independent research,” she replied.

 

Frigg studied her, “Would this have anything to do with the argument between Thor and Lady Sif?”

 

“Mother!  Have you seen Loki?” Thor’s voice boomed ahead of him and the trickster had never been so grateful to hear the big oaf.

 

“Thor, have we not spoken about not yelling in my garden?” Frigg’s voice did not raise but her authority shamed any of his great bellows.

 

Rounding the corner, he stopped, seeing Loki beside his mother.  “Sorry,” he flushed as he apologized before turning his attention to Loki.  His eyes studied her for signs of injury.  “Are you all right?  Sif didn’t hurt you, did she?”

 

“No, you great oaf.  Lady Sif and I merely exchanged words upon a certain matter that is between us.  Never fear, I am unharmed.”

 

“You’re not saying that to ease my mind upon this matter, are you?” he asked, dropping to kneel beside her, mindful of his mother’s plants.

 

“Would I do such an absurd thing?” she asked, uncomfortably aware of Frigg’s considering look.  No, not considering she could see now.

 

The All Mother looked concerned and worried.

 

But over what?  Surely not the friendship that she and Thor had.  It was no different from what he shared with Lady Sif and the Warriors Three, though they might be a tad closer.  Then she thought more about it, realizing how strange their friendship appeared to be – especially in light of the words she’d heard earlier.

 

“Yes, if you thought it would make me go away.”

 

“I have never believed that any of my words would **_make_** ,” she emphasized the word, “You do anything.  If you ever read such intent in any of my actions or words, I offer my sincerest regrets, Prince Thor.”

 

Shaking his head, Thor sighed.  “You never regret anything, Loki.  Why is it that you delight in calling me names but never address me by my name?”

 

“You are a prince.  And not just any prince but the First Prince.”

 

“And you are one of my closest friends,” he interrupted.  “I share much with you that I keep from others.  I report to you my troubles and ask for counsel from you more than any other.  I do not believe it too much to ask that you use my name for there is no reason not to.”

 

“Propriety demands that I show respect toward you by using your title,” she started.

 

Thor snorted.  “There is only ever a weapon in your voice when you use my title, Loki.  A barrier between us for a reason I don’t quite understand though I realize what you are trying to say.  Have I done aught to displease you?”

 

“Loki, would you allow me a word with my son?”

 

“Of course, your highness,” she murmured and finished with her planting.  Rising, she made a gesture of obeisance to both and left, deeply troubled.  She had a feeling that her rather idyllic days in the capital were numbered.

 

“Ah, Loki, I have been looking for you.”

 

Curtseying, she wondered who would be seeking her next – Fandral?  She hoped not.  While he was not insufferable in small doses, he was still irritating.  “Sire, how may I serve you?”

 

Odin studied her face, noting the worried look she tried to conceal from him.  It was so out of place on her normally composed face, he made a note to speak with his wife about it.  “Walk with me.  I am in need of counsel.”

 

“Do you not have advisors for that?” she asked, tamping down the sense of pride that immediately welled up inside.  She’d learned rather quickly that his need for advice from her usually meant her doing something that the citizens of Asgard would find distasteful.

 

“I need a dissenting voice,” he said.  “My advisors hold to much respect for my knowledge and position to offer another opinion.”

 

Biting her lip, she slowed her walk.  “I respect you, sire.”

 

“But not at the expense of ignoring your own knowledge,” he pointed out.  “That’s what I need right now, Loki.  You observe more than others, I need to hear that viewpoint.”

 

“What words I have are yours, my king,” she humbly said, inclining her head.

 

* * *

 

“What is wrong, mother?” Thor asked.  As he knelt there, his hands twitched nervously.  He had never been able to relax in the quiet of the gardens though he had often been in them.  There was nothing he found here that excited him – something he was careful to keep hidden from his mother for she would make him spend hours inside them.

 

Frigg was silent, studying her son.  She did not know how to address what was troubling her for she would not be able to hint about it.  Thor was not known for being able to pick up on subtlety.  And loyalty was one of his defining traits – as was his hotheadedness.  Bringing this up would be difficult but it was not impossible, she just wished that she didn’t have to speak of it at all.

 

“How would you describe Loki?”

 

His eyebrows pinched together.  “I do not understand the question, mother.  To describe Loki accurately is as impossible as describing air.  There are no words to use to properly speak of all that she is.”

 

“Can you describe your relationship then?” she tried.  His words unsettled her for they lacked the decisiveness that he was known for.  Anyone else could come up with words to describe Loki, mostly unflattering ones but all were true.  The fact that Thor could not meant that he was trying to describe Loki as a whole.  That he saw her as a complex, complete being, and that worried her for she feared that some deeper emotion must be at work.  The question was, did he know?

 

And if he was ignorant, did she have enough time to put a stop to it?

 

“We’re friends, the same as Lady Sif and I are.  The same as with the Warriors Three,” he replied.  “What needs to be described?”  Thor was confused.

 

Seeing that made her wonder if she was perhaps making more out of the situation than was there.  Thor may not be the brightest of people but he was not dumb.  “Thor, I am concerned that your friendship with Loki has led you to doing some unwise things.  She is not an easy person for many to accept.  While Loki can be charming, she finds little reason to put forth the effort to remain in the good graces of many,” Frigg delicately phrased her words.  The motions of her hands never ceased being careful with the bush she had moved onto.

 

“Why should she have to hide what she is to fit into a place she was not born to?” he demanded.  “Loki would not be our trickster if she was to remain in a state of pleasing others and their ideas of what she should be and not accepting of what she is.   I do not deny that she frustrates me terribly.  That I wish she was more like us but that would change her.  I like her as she is.”

 

With a sigh, he rose.  “I have a meeting with Tyr, so I must take my leave.  Do not worry so about Loki and I, mother.  I shall always watch out for her as she does me.”

 

“That’s what I worry about,” she whispered after he’d left.  The word finally given to her nameless fear – love.  Thor loved Loki and not in a totally platonic way.  But it was not the love of a man for the one he wished to spend eternity with for all that she had never seen him with another.  No, she was well aware that his affections were not so inclined towards any woman.  Yet such feelings would make any match he made difficult, even impossible to maintain should he remain tied to Loki.

 

As much as it pained her, she had to find a way to separate them because such feelings would only lead to pain and misery.

 

* * *

 

“Odin,” Frigg said as she climbed into bed, “We must marry Loki off soon.”

 

“Why?” he asked, stifling a yaw.  “She hasn’t done anything to warrant a scandalous cover-up, has she?”

 

“Thor’s affection for her is causing him to make unwise decisions.  You know of her true heritage.  If he were to find out about it, I fear that may result in a situation.”

 

“What kind?”

 

“I foresee two different reactions,” Frigg paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts.  “The first is that his loyalty to her as his friend, as one he grew up with, could force him to do something unwise.  Perhaps in an attempt to force others to accept her, he could marry her.  While she is royal, there is no way such a marriage would be accepted.  In fact, they may accuse her of using dark magic to bind him to her.  Or Laufey might decide to use this to his benefit.”

 

She didn’t have to finish that sentence.  They were both well aware of why Loki had been born the way she had.  “Two, he could go in the opposite direction.  He might accuse her of being a traitor.  Loki is rather sensitive.  Oh, she covers it well, laughs things off.  But she lets it build up inside of her until she can no longer contain it.  When she lets it out, the end result will not be pretty – for any of us.  The path that she’s on now has allowed us to avert Ragnarök but should she be left alone, she may find herself back on that path.  Only this time, she might not wait until we have the Einherjar to help defend us and provide the way for us to secure another chance to set things right.”

 

“The runes on her arms…” he began.

 

“Could be overcome by one of her chaotic powers,” she admitted with a sigh.  “Should she be given enough reason to do so.”

 

Odin could see both points and knew that Frigg spoke truth.  Trying to fully tame one of Loki’s nature was not something he had chosen to do lightly.  And, in fact, by doing as he did – by carving the Runes into her skin hours after she had been born – may have temporarily bound her but it did not change her.  Male or female, she was as she had always been, a creature of chaos.

 

As much as he would miss her counsel, they had to do something.  Freyja had spoken to him after he and Loki parted, mentioning some of the things that were being said of the orphan and his son.  Thor needed allies, not enemies.  “It would have been best for all concerned had Sigyn been reborn.”

 

Sigyn…the only being capable of handling Loki until even his madness had overcome his love for her.  “Yes, I do wish we knew why she was not among us.  Still, we must do our best to provide for Loki.”

 

“I will make discrete inquiries in various kingdoms in the outer realms,” he agreed.  Closing his eye, he allowed sleep to take him.

 

Frigg could not sleep though her husband’s snoring was soft and usually had a soothing affect upon her.  She would speak to Loki and hope that they could keep it hidden from Thor until the marriage contract was drawn-up and signed.  He would have to respect the alliance even if he didn’t like it.  She just hoped that she was doing the right thing.

 

* * *

 

A week later, Loki was no closer to a good solution to Sif’s problem than Frigg was close to feeling easy about her plans.  Loki stared at the night sky, arms braced against the railing as she mapped constellations out in mind.  It was one was to stop thinking about the fact that all she had was a solution and no time to come up another.  Steps sounded behind her and she mentally apologize to Frigg for what she was about to do.  But she had no other choice – Sif came first.

 

“We cut your hair as though you have had a wild night.  As though your actions have caused your purity to be lost,” she said without preamble when Sif came into view.

 

“I said I wanted a temporary solution,” her rejoinder was sharp.

 

Loki turned to face her.  “It would be.  While your hair would darken from the cut, because the actual act didn’t occur, your growing hair would reveal your innocence.  I can cast a spell that would slow the growth long enough for you to prove your worth.  To regain your reputation on your own terms, no one would be able to dispute what you’d done.”

 

Sif scoffed.  “Come up with something else.”

 

“I cannot.  In two days time, I am to meet my fiancé, Svaldifari, and finalize the deal by wedding him.  I will not be returning to Asgard.”

 

“Fiancé?” Sif repeated.  For the first time, the warrior woman sounded faint.  Ill at ease, “Does Prince Thor know about this?”

 

Rubbing the back of her neck, Loki turned away.  “He does not.  And will not be informed as to the state of things until I am wed.”

 

“I have never trusted you with him but is this decision wise?”  Sif hated to acknowledge the bond between the Prince and the trickster but someone had to say it.  No one who knew Thor could be blind to their friendship.  The loyalty he felt for her was the same he felt for all his friends and ran deep.  But with Loki, it ran deeper than most were comfortable with.  Some often though that dark magic was the cause and not Thor’s stupidly blind and optimistic nature.

 

“It is the wisdom and will of the Queen that it be this way.  I do not desire to fight with her about it for she doubts that this is the best course to take.  Yet it is the only one we can for Prince Thor is sure to object strongly.  As practical as he is about some things, he is not always able to see the necessity of other things.”

 

Sif knew this was true.  She had experience it herself.  Fingering her hair, she thought about what she wanted and knew that Loki was really the only one who could help her.  The solution was not one she liked.  It was distasteful to her to know that many would believe that she had sold her honor to an anonymous man.

 

But she wanted to be seen as a true warrior and the only way to do that was to become a Valkyrie.  What she had said to Loki was true.  She did not want anything she had not earned.  “Cut it,” she ordered.  “And do not make a mistake with your spell.”

 

* * *

 

Two days of a journey into the heat left Loki tired and miserable, longing for the comforts of the cooler weather.  Things with Sif had gone about as well as expected – meaning not at all for her sake.  The spell had been perfect, Sif’s hair was darker than her own.  And even though it was known that she’d had a hand in it, there was enough doubt cast that Sif was engaged in the action of reclaiming her reputation.

 

The carriage lurched to a stop and she glance out, surprised.  Svaldifari’s realm was still an hour’s ride away.  Magic tingled at her fingertips though everything was telling her there was no threat here.  Still, when the door opened, the fire flew from her hands and at the trespasser.

 

“ ** _LOKI_**!”

 

She stared at Prince Thor, wide eyed in disbelief.  Her lips twitched but the wires sealing them shut did not allow her to speak.  He climbed in, hands framing her face, wiping the blood away.  “You are bleeding again.  Use your magic and tell me where you are running away to.”

 

“ _I am not fleeing though I will admit that this punishment is not exactly warranted considering the crime I was accused of.  Still, it was the right of the Lord Aegir and the Lady Ran for my actions in the fall of their granddaughter.  I am going to meet my future husband._ ”  Her voice flowed into his mind, something he took comfort in.

 

“Husband?” Thor repeated.  The word sounding foreign on his tongue.  “What is this that you speak of?”

 

“ _An alliance between the Lord Svaldifari and I,_ ” she explained.  “ _Brought about after much consideration of other prospects and which spousal choice would bring the most benefit to Asgard.  Being a man with many horses, Lord Svaldifari is the one who was chosen._ ”

 

“Does it?” his voice was deceptively soft.  “Why was I not consulted about this then?  Am I not the heir and you my chosen counselor?”

 

Loki flinched as his thumb brushed against an open sore.  “ _It concerned you not, Prince Thor._ ”

 

“Loki, you are my friend.  My advisor,” he thundered.  “Of course it concerns me!”  Upon her skin, lightening raced.

 

“ _Have care, good Prince, with your birthright.  The fire does little to quell the pain I am in._ ”  Normally, she would not have admitted as much – but she was far from feeling normal.  Pain danced along every nerve of her face.  But what was worse in her mind was the realization that Queen would not be pleased to hear that Thor had chosen to follow after her.  She was not pleased herself for it would make starting life anew most difficult.  If she had not known him so well, she would’ve believed that he was trying to keep her with him to make her his Queen though such an action would not be acceptable.

 

Not that she wanted the crown, such a thing was a burden she wished not.

 

But she wouldn’t mind being truly respected for more than a few moments.

 

“I’m sorry,” Thor’s voice rumbled.  His fingers smoothing the agony lines that flashed across her face and her eyes closed momentarily.  “I forgot how receptive you are to my lightening.”

 

“ _It’s not just the lightening, Prince,_ ” his slightly tightening hand silenced her.

 

“I am Thor to you, Loki,” he ordered.  “I tire of hearing my title come from you.”

 

“ _Sire,_ ” she stated.

 

“Would you rather I made it an order?”

 

Loki made a sound like a sigh.  “ _My future husband will not appreciate any informality between myself and another man – especially a single one._ ”

 

“He either accepts it,” Thor started and then shook his head.  “Or gets a new wife.  You were mine first, Loki.”

 

There were so many spins she could put on those words and all went through her mind before being rejected on the grounds Thor tolerated her more than anyone else ever had – probably ever would.  Should the worst happen, she’d need a warm welcome at the capital.  “ _If I might point out, doing such was part of my duty for you had little understanding of how your strength and magic would harm another woman._ ”

 

“For a few months – but you still come when I call,” he reminded her.

 

She almost shoved her arm into his face, the words branded there a taunt to their pretence of her free will.  They always burned more fiercely if she tried to ignore them, tried to work around them.  Some days, the feel of the runes and the pain they caused drove her deeper into her mind, seeking relief from them.  “ _Such an arrangement has, of course, to end._ ”

 

“No, it actually doesn’t,” he corrected, eyes dropping momentarily to her arm.  His lips tightened for he hated those words, the curse that they were to them both for he was never sure she was willing.  And he wanted her to have that choice, he somehow had the feeling that she shouldn’t be so restricted.  “I am your Prince and you my chosen companion.  Such a tie cannot be severed by another engagement whether it is yours or mine.  Nor the revelation of your Jotun heritage, Loki, it is of no consequence.  Don’t flinch for such a thing matters not to me.”

 

“ _You are alone in such feelings, sire…Thor,_ ” she corrected at his irritated look.  “ _This marriage is a very good thing for the both of us.  The separation will help us become the people we are supposed to be.  As much as you wish otherwise, I should be nothing more than an orphan to you.  The same way that Gudrun and Fafnir are to you._ ”

 

“Who?” he asked then shook his head.  “They matter not.  Tell me, Loki, do you think your husband will take care of your face when he sees it like this the way I am?”  His fingers brushed lightly, softly against her skin, a healing ointment upon them.  Smoothing away the lines of pain and hurt, he noticed every flinch she made and eased the ache.  “Will he care for your pleasure?  Make sure that it is soft so that it does not tear at your wounds, that he cares for your needs, sees that you have pleasure amidst the pain, and causes you no pain deliberately?  Will he allow you to fully heal once these bonds have been removed before he takes you with passion?”

 

Loki shuddered in reaction, realizing that she’d taught him to well to please a woman.  Teaching him that to care for the woman would increase his own pleasure in the act.  Her hand grabbed his wrist, a plea in her eyes, “ _Thor, stop_.”  There was a definite wobble in her mental voice.

 

“No,” Thor replied.  “You are my friend.  I’ll give up the crown if I must but losing you is not negotiable.”

 

“ _I am an orphan, not suitable for the Prince of the Realm_ ,” she reminded him.  “ _At least not as more than chosen consort._ ”

 

Thor snorted.  “You are Laufey’s daughter – and the Princess Fárbauti’s – more royal than I for my father created his title.  And the All Mother isn’t even my birth mother.  We have been through too much you and I for something so stupidly ridiculous as perception to separate us.”

 

“ _We are not star crossed lovers, fighting the injustice of the worlds.  Thor, we are friends.  I will not deny that, I can’t.  But I must agree with the belief of others that we are too close for comfort.  We need to sever all of those deeper ties and be nothing more than servant and sire.  As much as you profess to love me, that love is not the right kind.  And I do not care about you in such a fashion.  I will not allow this to continue._ ”

 

“You act as though you have a choice in this matter.  I have made up my mind, Loki.  There really is no other choice here,” Thor said.  “I abdicated the throne before I came after you.  I knew that you would be stubborn.  You and I are going to Muspelheim and have the dwarves remove these ties.  Then we are moving to Midgard.”

 

“ _You don’t like Midgard_.”

 

“But you belong.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the only Loki/Thor romantically inclined stuff in the story. Sorry, I just can't wrap my mind around the two as a couple - especially as I've drawn Loki's upbringing here.
> 
> The thing with Sif's hair. I figured as an older society who was probably focused on a woman's chasteness, if she lost her virginity, there would be some mark. A maiden has long hair. If she were unchaste, it would be cut and the color would change to the opposite of her original. Hope that works.


	2. Adventures in Midgard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki and Thor spend a little time being Merlin and Arthur respectively, the world doesn't end on the eve of becoming the year 1000, and Abraham Erskine is just several layers of awesome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Abraham Erskine had a wife, possibly two. One was named Anita and they had a daughter, Esme, who married a man named Jacob and they had a son who used his grandfather’s ideas of a healthy diet to start a business. I believe this was from Marvel’s Ultimate universe.  
> The other – and this is the one I’m using because I found it in the Marvel collection (and makes a little more sense to me) “Road to Marvel’s The Avengers” – is named Greta. She was his Jewish wife who was sent, along with their two children, to one of the concentration camps near Dachau. All three died of typhus while Dr. Erskine was in HYDRA custody.

 

* * *

 

It was a small place they finally found once Loki had placed a spell over them so that Heimdall would not be able to find them before they had had found a time suitable for them to hide in.  The last thing they wished was to be found.  At least, that’s what Loki had told him she was doing.  He didn’t understand any of what she had told him.

 

And since she was the most experienced in matters of seidr, he accepted the explanation.

 

As they looked around, Loki glanced over and saw the distaste on Thor’s face.  She didn’t understand how a man who loved battle could be so fastidious.  It wasn’t as if he hadn’t camped or been in muddy battle before.  He had often mucked out the stables because traditional punishments did not work for him.  Even those punishments had little affect upon him.  Thor was just one of those people who just didn’t learn unless he’d been brought low.

 

So, she thought it was rather amusing that when it came to living quarters, he couldn’t accept anything less than perfection.

 

“If you wish to return, I shall not mind.  I can live like this,” she offered, knowing it would be easier to fit in without him there.  Thor always stood out, even when he tried to remain hidden for his life was a life that should never be shrouded.  It was not just his looks but his bearing.  No matter what, the fact that he was a Prince showed through.  “It’s a good spot, near to the village should I need safety.”

 

“You and I stay together,” Thor replied, swallowing back his distaste.  This…this was not what he thought to receive when he’d planned this great adventure but he’d deal.  She always sacrificed for him even when she did not have to.  Though he pretended ignorance, he was fully aware of the way it was.  This time, things would be different for them.  He knew that it was about time he did the same for her.  When he chose this path, he knew that it wouldn’t be easy but he knew that it would be worth it.  “And I will hear no more talk about us separating.  The subject has become tedious, Loki.”

 

“As you wish, I was merely…”

 

“Offering me an easy out, I know.  But it is not what I want nor do I wish it.  This path is ours and I will live it with you,” he simply said.  “We cannot be found, right?”

 

Her mind supplied the name but she did not speak it.  “We are hidden from even his eye so long as we do not speak his name.”

 

“Excellent,” this was something Thor had no problem with.  The less he used the Watcher’s name, the happier he was.  Of course, though he did not understand the means, he knew that they had travelled back in time to a place before either of them was born.  Their older selves existed, may in fact be on Midgard.  She was careful to explain that these were the ones who’d already gone through a cycle of Ragnarök.  

 

Loki had said it would disguise their essences until they could modify their power signatures to a more mortal level.  This meant that they would be reborn multiple times - him more than her because of who he was born of - but that it would have no affect on their actual bodies.  With all the diverse pantheons at work in the Roman Empire, their presence would hardly be felt.  Just a ripple, a new branch on Yggdrasil’s branches – so long as they did nothing to upset the balance of things.  Honestly, trying to figure it out made his head hurt all over again.

 

She did caution him to be wary of Hera’s eye though for part of him carried the essence of Zeus’ own power over lightening.  Even without Mjolnir, he could still summon and wield it.  The Greek Queen would believe that he was the product of her husband’s infidelity rather than the truth.  And why should she believe that he was a child of Gaea and Odin when her husband strayed so often?  As he’d once been in battle with her as an ally, he did not want her as an enemy.

 

Hera scared him more than even his father’s wrath did.

 

“How do you wish to proceed?” Loki asked, facing him.  “Should I change into a male or remain female?”

 

Thor’s head shook.  “We make these choices together.  No matter who we once were, no matter what is engraved upon your arm, that life is over until they accept us – accept you for who you are and what you mean to me.”

 

And what she meant to him was such a nebulous thing, which was something the both of them knew but didn’t dare voice.

 

* * *

 

Baldur swallowed as he walked up to his parents, wishing Thor wasn’t so impulsive.  As he explained the situation, he saw his mother pale.  On the right side of the throne room, the Warriors Three and Lady Sif exchanged worried looks, Sif’s more troubled than he’d thought to see.  Of them all, she usually had the most inscrutable face.  Even Hogun couldn’t match her in being unreadable.  Perhaps it was that she cared more for Thor than even she had known and was coming to the conclusion that had she known, she would’ve been able to stop him.

 

As if anyone had the power to stop his brother from doing as he pleased, though Loki usually could be counted on to keep him in line.

 

Odin stormed past him, a furious scowl on his face that sent those in his path scurrying away.  All of them suddenly realizing that they had other tasks to perform before speaking with him.  There was only one person he was going to see.  Later, he would send Huginn and Muninn out to search the world over.  He would sit on his thrown of omniscience and study the realms, seeking an answer to his son’s stupidity and a reason for why Loki had complied when she had known better.

 

And yet, he knew searching for them would do no good against Loki’s magic.  And, for the first time, cursed himself for no longer practicing.  After all, he **was** the premiere sorcerer in all of the Nine Realms.  The problem was that it had been easier and less taxing upon his body to use the physical arts rather than the magical.

 

“Heimdall, where are they?”

 

“I cannot say when they are.”  The being stood by his post, tall and unyielding.  The only other being capable of looking Odin in the eye without flinching away from him.  It was this, among his other abilities, that made him a fearsome opponent.  “Though I can say where.  But knowing this will do no good until they have returned to this time.”

 

“You know where?”  Odin was shocked for it did not sound like Loki – until his mind caught up with him.  “They are…are…” he couldn’t finish the sentence, shocked at the idea.  At the audacity of what Loki had done.

 

“Their bodies are in a protected area but the souls have gone walking.  Should they be moved, they will die.”  He was unemotional as he pronounced this.  It was not as if the Watcher had no emotions or feelings towards the fate of the Prince.  In truth, he cared very deeply for the young man.  But emotions had no place in what he did.

 

“Can anyone approach them?” Sif asked, worried that some may try to move them, thinking it would help.  Or even stumble upon them and accidentally cause a shift in their bodies, preventing their souls from finding their way back.

 

“They may only approach the fiery circle, none may pass.”

 

“Why would Loki allow you to see them?”

 

“That I do not fully understand for she knows how to hide from my eye.”  He had a theory but unless it was proven could not speak it.  For guesses, theories, hypothesis, were conjecture and conjecture was not proof.  As he could not lie, he could say none of these things.

 

“Knowing Loki, it’s to taunt us,” Fandral disdainfully said.

 

Sif’s head slowly shook, thinking it over.  “She has no need for such pettiness.  To be so cruel to his friends and family, it is something that she knows would disappoint him.  No matter what we feel is right or wrong, she has Thor’s undying friendship, his loyalty.  She would not wish to risk losing that.  It’s to comfort us with Prince Thor’s safety for we will always be able to judge his body’s condition, his state of health.”

 

“What?”

 

“I listen to her speak of such things occasionally, Hogun.  If nothing else, Loki is consistent in her affection for our Prince.”

 

Odin’s hand rose, silencing their words.  There was another reason for her inability to deliberately bring harm upon any of them.  But he did not speak of Loki’s bond to them.  That was something only those in the family were aware of.  They were the only ones who could know for the more who knew the truth, the more dangerous it was.  “It is as the Lady Sif says.  We will say nothing to Asgard of this.  Baldur will take over Thor’s duty until he returns.”

 

“What if he doesn’t?” Baldur hesitantly asked.

 

“He will.”

 

“But what if he doesn’t?  We must prepare for that possibility.”  Baldur hated to point it out but it really had to be said.

 

“It will not happen.”

 

Baldur’s mother snapped shut when he saw Frigg’s head shake.  Of course, now was not the time for such discussions.  There were other matters that needed tending to.  But he would make sure it was addressed later for he didn’t want to be King.

 

It just wasn’t in him.

 

* * *

 

“Merlin!”

 

Loki flinched at the familiar voice yelling a name that wasn’t quite his own yet.  It was a good thing that she was fond and rather used to changing her gender.  Diplomacy was always easier when one approached allies in their form.  They tended to trust those that looked like them.  Though it had been quite some time since it had been **_chosen_** for her, it made her wonder who had done so and why.

 

Still, she would get used to it.

 

Well, **_he_** would get used to it.  There were things that he’d find easier to do in a male form.  In a sense, Loki rather missed the freedom of the male form.  Males did have a relative amount of freedom given to them that females did not.  It would be nice to not always be in the eye of scrutiny, to be constantly watched for doing something not considered to be the role of a female.

 

Serving the giant prat prince on the other hand was going to be something of a challenge.

 

It was amazing how much of a pain Thor had become.  He couldn’t recall Thor being so aware of his rank before.  Picking on the servants, treating everyone who was not of his rank with contempt…if he was to truly become a good king, Loki had his work cut out for him.  He wondered how Frigg managed to get both of the hotheaded men in her life to take heed of her advice.  Having been raised with Thor, he’d never really had an opportunity to observe and learn.

 

“Yes, sire?”  He turned and half-smirked at Arthur, wondering how it was that even reborn Thor had managed to stay blond, blue eyed, and autocratic.  It was most annoying.  Arthur had kept everything that he had while he’d come into this life full of magic and an impossible amount of clumsiness.  If not for that magic, he thought it a miracle that he was even alive.

 

For a moment, confusion clouded Arthur’s eyes.  As though the words triggered a memory within him and Loki’s breath caught.  Now was not the time for him to remember, not when King Uther had banned all magic for in many ways Arthur **_was_** like Thor.  He was a warrior, a man with deep loyalties, and extreme arrogance.  But underneath it all, he was a good man.

 

But he’d been raised to uphold the law.

 

Would he follow his former nature and support Loki?  Or would he turn him over to his father to face the judgments of the king?  The law had been broken, several times over, by him already.  His mere presence was breaking the law.  Would Arthur – Thor – be able to look past what he was raised to believe and remember who Merlin – Loki – really was?

 

“Change of plans, we’re going hunting.”

 

“Hunting, sire?”  The slight complaint could not be kept out of the words.  Nor off of his face.

 

“Yes, hunting,” Arthur snidely repeated.  “Are you daft as well as an idiot?  Be sure to bring the sleeping gear as well – we are going to be out for quite some time.”

 

“Shall I inform your usual party?”  Because he just **_loved_** it when the rest of the idiots joined them on these trips, more chances for the men to make fun of him – and for him to be caught trying to protect him.  It was rather like old times when he would be dragged along on an adventure with him, the Warriors Three, and Lady Sif.  Arthur studied him, taking in all the details that usually eluded him.  There was something there, something in the prince’s eyes, a look that did not sit well with Loki.

 

“No,” Arthur’s reply was slow.  “I see no reason to include anyone else in this, Mer ** _lin_**.”

 

He hated how he emphasized the last syllable of his name.  While he’d always disliked it before, there was a hint of something else in Arthur’s voice now that just did not sit well with him.  “Yes, sire.”

 

Again there was that odd look before the prince walked down the hall, presumably to tell his father of his plans.

 

* * *

 

If there was one thing Merlin hated, it was hunting when there was no need.  Arthur found this attitude to be _girlish_ though how he could feel so when Morgana and Gwen could shoot as well as his knights, he didn’t know.  It made even less sense once he learned that Morgana could fight and ride as well as Arthur.

 

In some ways, she reminded him of the Lady Sif.  It was not just her physical looks but her attitude, the very strength of her character, it was the entire woman that had him thinking of the warrior woman.  Arthur and Morgana even had that weird one-upmanship thing going on, though in both cases he thought that the women held a slight lead over him.  Of course, Morgana delighted in her femininity while Sif had eschewed it, preferring the sword to the spindle and pants to a dress.

 

And thinking of her brought up memories of Asgard and with that a wave of unexpected homesickness.

 

“So, how often have you used magic, Loki?”

 

The question came out of nowhere and for a moment, he forgot to breath.  Slowly, he turned from the fire he was tending to face Arthur.  In the flickering light, he studied him.  Magic **_could_** subdue him but his arm burned, the runes reminding him of the ties binding him to the family.  He couldn’t use it against him for any reason.  There was no other choice, he’d have to teleport away.

 

But as he looked closer, he saw no hatred or malice in his eyes.  Only a deep hurt, a sadness that was asking to be healed.  Asking for him to trust him, to let him in, to be his friend and companion once more, “Since coming to Camelot or?” he left the question hanging.

 

“Camelot,” he replied, a sharp bite in his voice.  “Outside the kingdom it’s legal to use magic.  Why did you come here?”

 

“Because you are here,” he simply said, “Though I did not know it at the time.”

 

There was a tense silence as they stared at each other, nervousness in both.  Thor’s head shook at last, “Idiot.”

 

And Loki knew they’d be fine, “Prat.”

 

* * *

 

The flames roared hotter and brighter as magic flared between Loki and Thanos.  She ducked and the gauntlet passed over her head.  Chills raced down her spine as her magic catalogued the gems there.  Why the mad Titan was on Midgard, neither of them knew nor did they care.  What they knew was one thing – he was not supposed to be here.  He’d been driven out in the last battle of the gods, barred from returning to this area of Yggdrasil.  As had many others for Midgard had been declared a world that was to be off limits to all would be dictators.

 

They knew that they were revealing themselves but could not care.  They were the only ones capable of fighting him.  In the final moments of battle, the trickster was engulfed in a vision after wresting the gauntlet away from him.  Forcing all of her concentration upon Thanos, she cursed herself for touching one of the gems.  She tossed it to Thor, hearing his triumphant laughter as he caught it in the box fashioned to trap the magic and keep it from Thanos’ reach.  Laughter that once would have signaled the end.

 

This time was different for she looked into Thanos’ eyes and felt him in her mind.

 

Even as she bound him and cast him up into Asgard, she felt his grip upon her throat.

 

Upon her soul, squeezing the breath out of her.  Into her.  Forcing her to inhale and exhale his essence.  It surrounded and encompassed all of her, blinding her mind to everything but what it was to be the Titan.  She tasted death and life.  Glorious in its infinite pain and beautiful in its inevitability, she drank it in.  It tasted of power…it tasted of surrender.  It was everything and it was nothing all at once.

 

And she knew it all for she could see so much.

 

It was time Thor went home.

 

* * *

 

Sif had just relieved the guard when Thor groaned and sat up.

 

Though groaned is not the word she should use for what she heard.  A scream of such terror clawed free from his lips, she could not help but look around for the threat that had caused the sound to escape the mighty Thor.  His eyes opened slowly and he blinked several times before everything came into focus.  From where she stood, she could see horror there.  A horror she could not understand nor did she want to.

 

She watched as his eyes moved to Loki’s motionless body.  Thor jerked towards her, something more than compassion there.  It was genuine fear but whether for her or because of her, Sif could not say.  “Do not touch,” she barked out, seeing his movements.

 

“You dare to order me?  Your Prince?” he snapped.  Though his voice was hoarse and cracked from being silenced for so long, the high-handed authority was still there.  “Have we been gone so long that you have forgotten your place?”

 

Sif’s eyes hardened.  If there was one thing she hated more than being treated like some helplessly idiotic female, it was having someone act as though she had no respect for Thor.  She respected him, that’s why she talked back to him.  What she realized was the same thing that Loki did – though she would slit anyone’s throat who said it – Thor didn’t need people to always agree with him.

 

He needed an opposing voice.

 

She was more than happy to provide it for him.  Fighting him verbally had prepared her well in fighting others.  As much as she didn’t wish to say a word in thanks to him because his attitude bothered her, he had prepared her for the stings and censure of others.  “If you move her, she will be unable to find her way back to her body, sire.”  The words dripped with scorn even as her face and posture remained respectful.

 

Thor sat back slowly, pain on his face for he remembered that lecture.  “How long have we slept?”

 

“By our reckoning, not long,” she replied, “Though many Midgardian years have passed – eight hundred and thirty seven years.”

 

“Not long is how long by our reckoning?” he pressed.  He had never been very good at figuring out the difference between their time and Midgardian time.  It had become doubly hard once they changed the way they wrote their calendars.  And Loki had said that at some point both Midgardian time and Asgardian time would meet and match once again.

 

“One hundred and seventy five years, Thor.  I am not pleased with your actions.  Lady Sif will remain on guard while we have a talk about your responsibilities to the Kingdom.  Do you realize the damage your actions have caused?”  Odin’s eye focused on him, such furious anger in its depth that Thor swallowed back his words and rose, looking only once more at Loki before he followed his father.

 

Frigg walked up and stared at Loki.  “No change?” she asked though she could see that there was none.

 

“At first I thought that she did not want to wake up until she was sure Thor was gone.”

 

“And now?”

 

“Now I believe that something else is at work.  It is as if she doesn’t know how to wake up, your majesty.”  Sif’s posture became more alert, stiffer as she stood there.

 

“But why?” Frigg mused, ignoring the implications of Sif’s second theory.  “Thor is impulsive but she mitigated the damage by doing this.  She contained the situation.  We will not judge her actions unfairly.”

 

“Permission to speak to you freely, your majesty?” Sif was rather relieved that the Queen ignored her second theory.  Such an idea was too horrible a thing for even her to contemplate for if Loki could be lost, she who had strange seidr at her fingertips, what hope did any of them have?

 

“Granted,” though it was reluctantly given.  As much as she enjoyed hearing another’s honest comments, sometimes she just didn’t want to hear it.

 

“Loki is often blamed for things that she did with the best of intentions when they did not go the way we planned.  As a result, her punishments are harsher than what another might receive.”  She fingered her hair for a moment, trying to find the words to use that would not harm all that she had done.  She knew that if the truth came out, that she had arranged the ruination of her reputation with Loki, all that she had done would disappear.

 

She would be branded a liar and a fraud and that was something that she just couldn’t risk.  “I am not comfortable with the trickster but I believe that she is trying her best to assist Prince Thor.  She tried to break the bond through marriage.  It did not work.  Perhaps she remains asleep to lessen but not destroy what they share.  Thor is not patient but his concern for her is real.  Occupy his body and mind, she will soon lose priority with him.”

 

Frigg listened and nodded, acknowledging the truth in her words.  She much preferred Sif’s theory to the one in which Thanos had somehow damaged Loki beyond repair.  “We shall continue the vigil upon her but I believe that it would be wise to relieve you and Thor’s friends from this duty.  Do not try to force a separation but try to keep him occupied with other tasks.”

 

“As you will,” Sif bowed her head.

 

* * *

 

Huginn and Muninn flew into the throne room, a cacophony of sounds and words accompanying them.  Odin nodded and rose, making his way out to the courtyard.  “Hephaestus,” he greeted, half-surprised to see Aphrodite with the god.  Her hand tightened slightly upon his arm, daring him to challenge her right to be there.  Odin was no such fool.  There were four goddesses he did his best to never upset - this was one of them for she could be more vicious and vindictive than even Queen Hera.  “Lady Aphrodite.  Are the chains holding Thanos?”

 

“For the moment though Father Zeus suggests a more permanent solution be found for him.”

 

“As soon as this awakening is done, we shall make a ruling.  Where did you place it?”

 

“Over there,” he gestured to the statue covered in a white cloth.  “To fully awaken the spirit of the trickster, call Hermes.  He is more than willing to help you in this endeavor.  I believe that it would be wise of you to consult with both him and Athena as to which spirit should hold the most sway upon this version of Loki until she returns.  Do you know what happened to her?”

 

There were many theories, of course.  It was obvious that Thanos and she had engaged in battle for all had felt the unleashing of chaos which had allowed the victor to wrest the gauntlet from his hand.  Doing so had granted Loki victory that day.  But it had come at a price.  Like all Titans, Thanos was no easy being to defeat completely.  He always had some way of wresting back something of his own.

 

“No,” Odin’s word was brusque.

 

Aphrodite tightened her grip on his arm again, warning him.  It was obvious to her that there was something he was not saying.  She did not know if it was because he had no wish to.  Or because he did not want to think of the implications behind whatever was going through his mind.  The fact remained that with Loki gone, there was a void left behind.  They needed to fill it before the balance was altered permanently.

 

A smile barely graced her lips, “I’m sure you will resolve things to all of our satisfaction, Lord Odin.”

 

He inclined his head in acknowledgement of her words, shaking off his mood quickly.  “Will you feast at my table this night?”

 

“I am afraid not, sire.  Zeus has requested a meeting that we must partake in.  I am sure Hermes will bring you word should it affect Asgard in some way.”  A definite possibility they all knew until all things had been restored to a balanced state.  Hephaestus stepped back.  Odin noticed that Aphrodite had not once let go of him.  They waved before disappearing.

 

* * *

 

Loki’s eyes fluttered open and she looked around, seeing no one in the area.  Confusion clouded her senses for this did not seem right.  Even if she was not truly wanted, she was of Asgard.  Had she been gone too long?  Pushing herself up, she left the circle, dispersing the magical barrier.  Walking carefully, she stood at the gates of Asgard, invisible though it proved to be unnecessary.

 

No one stood guarding the gates.

 

As she moved through the halls, she noticed the eerie silence.  The absence of palatial life, even the servants had disappeared.  A vague fragment of a battle filled her mind, a dark being that she managed to subdue before pain crashed all around her, came to mind.  She thought that he’d been defeated, sent away to be dealt with.  Was she remembering wrong?  She could be.  Memory flowed so easily through the holes in her mind that it had been a long time since she could differentiate between reality and fantasy.

 

Going to her rooms, she swallowed heavily for there was dust in the area.  Dust as though on one had touched this place in years.  And that too seemed wrong, had she not used spells to keep things clean?  Or had that been the work of the servants?  Memories slipped through once more, tried for a moment to stay with her before moving on, her grip upon them not strong enough to force them to remain.

 

Entering her bedroom, she noticed that it was the same.  At least, she everything appeared to be the same.  It didn’t feel as though anything was out of place or wrong.  Nothing moved, nothing touched – but her bags had been returned from the wedding that never was.  Her hand traced the letters, picked up a scroll, tried to read the words before giving up.

 

What was the point if she could not understand any longer?

 

“Ikol,” she softly called and a magpie appeared at the window.  “What has happened to Asgard in my absence?”

 

Breath sharpened as he recounted everything until she sank to the ground, shaking her head in a futile attempt to deny the words.  They were silent for a long time before she rose and went to the window, looking out at the darkness.  It stretched far into the night, no light to guide her back from where her thoughts were taking her.

 

Anger, sharp and burning, filled her.  Replaced by a son as though all that she was had been nothing.  Easily replaced like a sword or hammer as if she was ordinary.  As if she held no unique spirit or special place in anyone’s lives.  Was this why her memories were gone?  Because there was no need for such a lowly, undesirable person to have them?

 

Bile rose and filled her mouth tasting of defeat and bitterness, of worthlessness.  A thing, an object that only had one use and then was easily done away with, could it really be that simple?  _Just who was she now?  Who could she possibly be if she was so easy to replace_?  She spat it out, though her upbringing prevented her from doing so on the ground.  It went into a bowl which she cleaned.

 

Where did she now belong for they had made a prince of her?

 

“Ikol, I am unsure of what to do.  They have him now,” sorrow laced her words momentarily before she forced it back.  There would be time for tears later – much later.  For now, she had to make a plan and somehow implement it.  But what could she do?  “And I know not if I would be accepted in Jotunheim.  What am I to do?”

 

And then she asked for the plea could not be hidden, not from this version of herself.  “Does no one but you who I created to keep watch over all so that when we returned we would know the news remember me at all?”

 

“I remember you though I bitterly resent that fact.”

 

Loki turned around and automatically bowed.  “Lady Sif,” the words a whisper of sound.

 

The warrior glared.  “How is it that I know the truth when all others remain in an ignorant state, Silvertongue?” she demanded.  “What spell have you wrought upon me to make it so?”

 

“I know not how you are protected.  Unless,” her words trailed off as she reached out a hand.  Ignoring Sif’s flinch, she rolled a lock of the woman’s dark hair around her fingers.  “My magic is still here.”

 

“What?”  Sharp as a double blade, Sif’s question came.

 

“The circumstances behind your hair cut may have changed but they could not alter what I made possible.  Your hair was enchanted to remain this shade though the tale Ikol told me says your hair was given to you by the dwarves making it from nothing for this Loki,” the name burned upon her tongue, “Gave them naught to work with.”

 

Agony lanced through her at the thought of the one who had stolen her life, her identity, from her, leaving her with only this one ignoble act as hers.  Stepping away, she forced back the anguish.  “I am sorry, my lady, there is nothing I can do to undo what has been done to you.  This magic that has replaced my life is unknown to me.  Only the caster can return things to the way they once were.”

 

Sif crowded her space, trapping her against the wall as she studied her expression in the light of the moon which had finally appeared.  She prided herself on her ability to read the Trickster’s eyes’ even after all this time.  The naked anger and anguish was there – and the hopeless weight of the situation she could also plainly read.

 

A harsh breath escaped her.  “Let us hope, Trickster, that there is an end to this for I fear that I will go mad knowing what I know.”

 

“How long has this Prince been here?”  That was the one thing that Ikol could not tell her for time was a concept unknown to the magpie.  At the time, she hadn’t thought it would be necessary for him to know time.

 

Sif’s head tilted to the side, knowing she was leaving her neck exposed to an attack should Loki so chose to harm her.  “About a year after Thor woke up from his nap.  News of Thanos’ defeat in battle circulated and he was held for a time before he was judged.  The gods united and imprisoned him, surrounded by that which he could not kill.  As long as there is life about him, he will never break free.  When you did not awaken yourself, the All Father sought solutions to fill that void until you could reclaim your place.  You have been unguarded since then for all seemed to forget the palace ward, the former whipping child, when the boy Loki came into the city.”

 

“And that was?”

 

“At best guess, on the Midgardian calendar, nine hundred and seventy-eight years.  Though our calendar and theirs has begun to run in similar lines.”

 

“Ah, so if I’d slept a bit longer, you would no longer be plagued with these dual memories,” she mused, trying to remember the particulars of the spell.  The particulars of the way time here and time on Midgard moved for it seemed to her that they were not the same.  There were things that she couldn’t grasp, didn’t quite remember.  The fight with Thanos had left holes torn into her mind, memories that should have been forever were gone.

 

Until Abraham…ah, but he was another matter entirely, one she should not be thinking of right now.  With him, she had control over her mind and felt whole, at peace.  But he was not here.  She could not think of him at the moment.  Once more, her hand touched Sif’s hair, running though it.  “I must say that I find you far more intimidating this way.  Did you prove yourself?”

 

An eyebrow arched, “I answer to no one but Brunhilde and the Royal Couple.”

 

“An enviable position,” her dry response somehow managed to convey joy.  “I am happy for you – now, step away.”

 

“Why?” her belligerent tone challenged.

 

Loki glared.  “Because I have just come from a horrific death trap wherein I was forced to perform many perverse acts for men who would slaughter those they consider unworthy of life.  I have long since been without the choice of a bed partner.  It is true that I have rarely been attracted to my own gender while in that form, but that is a situation easily remedied.  It may, in fact, help me heal.  Though the thought of performing such acts terrifies me, I am also desirous of company who will submit to my will.”

 

A feral grin curled Sif’s lips.  “You think you can dominate my will?”

 

“I wouldn’t need to try,” Loki replied, a slow smile twisting her lips.  “Should I want you, I could have you begging for it.”  The darkness in her tone sent a shiver down Sif’s spine and the Trickster used that opportunity to disappear and reappear on the other side of the room.  Loki would not play that dangerous game for not only did she not have the time, there was something in her mind that spoke against it.  “As it is, I shall waste no time in departing for I no longer have a place here.”

 

“What will you do?”

 

Loki stared at Sif, surprised by the lost sound in her voice.  If she didn’t know any better, she would think that the other woman wanted her to stay where she was.  “Survive,” she grimly replied.  “Should you ever need me, send Ikol.  He will always find me.  But I don’t foresee such a thing happening.  In time, you shall be as all of Asgard.  I will not be a torture upon you.”

 

* * *

 

1940  
New York

 

Abraham Erskine paused in his writing.  The rain had started rather suddenly and he watched it steadily fall, searching for something.  This rain was similar to something he’d once witnessed over thirty years ago.  It was hypnotic, the way it shimmered in the flickering lights of the houses around him.  He almost let himself fall into the moment and just enjoy the sight but there was something there.

 

Rising slowly, he stood at the window and watched a dark shadow move through the night.

 

A shadow that moved too fluidly to be completely human his eyes were quick to note.

 

Narrowing his eyes, he waited to see what the form would do.

 

To find out where it would go, was it an ally or an enemy?  It was entirely possible that Armin Zola had found him despite the best efforts of the American military and Howard Stark to keep him hidden.  Perhaps using his knowledge of biochemistry he had found a way to make a version of his serum.  It would be imperfect but it didn’t need to be perfect to suit the needs of the man who controlled HYDRA.  Johann Schmidt always believed that the man saw more and was capable of truly great things.

 

Thus, he was unprepared for the flash of light that formed where hands should be.  The glow spread, illuminating the figure, until with a gasp of hope, one name escaped him.  By all that was holy, he had never thought to see her again.  “Loki?”  Opening the door, he softly called out, trying not to alert the neighbors.  Or startle her for he could see that she was teetering upon some ledge, “Come inside, child, before you drown.”

 

Shutting the door behind her, he moved her into the room.  “Thank you,” she spoke through tight lips, shivering.  One would’ve thought that her Jotun heritage would’ve kept her warm when soaked but it seemed as though that was another rumor.  Or may be it had to do with self-control, she had never bothered to study anything relating to Jotun physiology.  “I was afraid I had come to the wrong place.”

 

Passing her some of the clothes he’d quickly grabbed, he turned around to stoke up the fire.  “What happened?” and he meant more than what went on when she found her way to Asgard for it was obvious that by her death, she had returned there.  He wished to know how she had managed to survive not only Dachau’s camp but had found him in America.  He wished to know the fate of their children, Klaus and Marlene.  Did they also survive?

 

Slowly, she unlaced her tunic, letting it fall to the ground along with the rest of her undergarments.  Using the towel that he’d placed at the top of the pile, she rubbed her skin dry as best as she cold.  Pulling on the shirt, she frowned as she tried to close it.  The buttons kept slipping from her shaking hands.  “The short story is that I was replaced,” she quietly said, wishing that her magic had fully returned.  “Abraham?  Help,” it was both a wretched plea and a shameful demand.

 

Rising to his feet, he waked back over to her.  “Buttons to complicated for the great goddess of chaos?” he gently teased.  Carefully, he pushed each button through each hole, making sure that they were in the correct ones for her still damp skin had the shirt bunching up awkwardly.

 

“My hands are too stiff from the cold.  I am **_not_** some mewling child,” she replied with some asperity.  She braced herself against him when he knelt down to help her into the pants.  The lack of undergarments was very disconcerting but she was too tired to deal with it.

 

Taking the comforter he handed her, she sat on the ground, breathing in the scent of wood smoke.  The familiar scent filled her senses and she had to swallow back tears for this was not the time for such weakness.  After a moment, she was able to relax, startled when a glass of schnapps appeared in front of her.  She was almost reluctant to accept the stimulant but knew that she needed it.

 

“Thank you,” she murmured.  As she warmed up, she started to stiffen up.  Eking into her mind, pressing against her shields, were the memories of the camp of comfort women – the last place on Midgard that she had been and through all of those thoughts and emerging feelings of terror and shame, Johan Schmidt stood, a malignant presence weaving his hate and ambition into her punishment.

 

“Go easy,” he warned.  Studying her face for a moment, he sat down beside her.  “Now, tell me what happened.”  One of his arms extended and he waited, watching as she tensed before visibly forcing herself to relax.  It was almost as if she was trying to tell herself, to _remind herself_ , that he was her friend.  And her trusted ally, her husband, the man who had helped her heal from the wounds of too many long, aching years of being alone inside the void of her mind.  Even though he wished to hold her, he waited patiently.  Something happened to her in that camp, something more than just what happened to others sent to them and he feared for her mind, her sanity.

 

Would he be able to save her this time?

 

Sipping her drink, she slowly leaned against him.  Even as her mind remembered him and her senses categorized him as safe, she was not quite secure in him just yet.  Fear danced across her skin as his hand moved to cup her shoulder, holding her lightly.  For all her bravado to Lady Sif, the last touch she remembered was Schmidt visiting her with his taunts and threats, with his proof of her children’s deaths as he held her down and silenced her screams with fists and teeth and lips.  As he took what he wanted and then forced her to give him more, breaking what was left of her soul as he shattered her, as he showed her what her husband’s formula had done to him.

 

She had seen the face of evil in Johann Schmidt – the misnamed Red Skull for she would have called him something else.

 

“As far as I can make out from Ikol, the All Father had Hephaestus create a living statue to fill my place.  He imbued it with life, turning it into a golem.  I do not know if he sought the aid of Hermes in making him a Trickster.”  She drew in a ragged breath, tensing as his hand moved, drawing soothing circles upon her skin.  After a moment, she let herself be soothed.  “Or if some other did something for he seems…filled with a darker nature, holds more darkness than I do, almost as if touched by Eris.  I do not know if it was intentional or an accident, though I can think of no reason for such a thing to be done.  The Lady Sif told me that he appeared about a year after Thor woke up from his deep sleep.”

 

“Does he have your dual nature?”

 

“You mean does he possess my Jotun heritage?”  She shrugged, tensing as his hand slipped down to her back.  Relaxing once more when he returned it to her shoulder, relieved that she had not been punished though her mind kept telling her that she was safe here, Abraham would help her.  “I did not remain long enough to check but I would think that he must possess a bit of it.”

 

“What did the All Father say when you confronted him?”

 

“I didn’t.”

 

“That doesn’t sound like you.”

 

Putting the glass down, she ran a hand through her hair.  Freezing when she realized that she’d knocked his hand away, again fearing retribution.  Her eyes darted up to him fearfully even though her mind knew the truth.  Abraham merely smiled and pulled up the blanket, making sure that it was securely around her shoulders.  His hand returned to its position once hers had dropped, wrapping her fingers around the blanket.

 

Another ragged breath escaped her and she had to repeat to herself that this was **_Abraham_** , not someone untrustworthy.  No matter what, the Red Skull’s twisted morals were all due to his own dark soul and not her husband’s science.  Abraham would not harm her intentionally.  He was curious, passionate about his work, and sometimes blind to the repercussions of what he created.  But cruel?

 

Never deliberately.

 

In fact, she had never known him to even be cruel to be kind.  She did not know if it wasn’t in his nature or if such things never occurred to him.  “To be utterly honest, I didn’t want to deal with it.  This Loki has filled the place of Baldur as the Second Prince.  They were raised as brothers – that is something that means a lot to Thor.  Baldur was too young to play with him or join him on adventures but now…he’s got the brother he’s always wanted.  One who has joined him in battle and adventures, who delights in combat as all of Asgard does, although the All Father did endow him with a love of learning and the ability to use seidr.

 

“He’s never made an enemy out of the Asgardian Court by siding with me.  While there is a knot of discomfort within me, I can do nothing.  The runes will not let me.  And I don’t think I wish to even if they were not there.  Even though this spell has brought this Loki to life, has allowed him to take my place in the greater scheme of things…it has completely erased me from Asgard.  I do not exist to them.”

 

“Lady Sif remembers you,” he pointed out.

 

“She was spelled by me,” she sighed.  “This protected her from whatever dark energy was used to do this, Abraham.”

 

Erskine’s scoff was soft.  “She hates you, Loki.”

 

“That is not a new thing,” she replied.  Resting her head on his shoulder, she yawned.  “I can no longer think of what to do.  It is not dark magic that has done this, so it isn’t like anyone bad has done this.  My mind is weary and can no longer hold my thoughts.  It is as though I am back where you found me.  I no longer know myself.”

 

Thinking of his work and his secrets, secrets she was only partially aware of, he wondered if he could do this.  If he could help her put herself together again, find who she was now.  Looking down at her as she rested in his arms, finally relaxed and trusting, knowing that there was more to the story of what happened to her in Dachau than she was saying, he had no other choice.

 

With a silent sigh, he gently shook her.  “Come to bed, wife,” he entreated when she looked up at him with sleepy eyes.  “Sleep on it and in the morning, we will talk.  We will figure this out.”

 

Abraham was gone when she woke up in the afternoon.  Her eyes itchy and raw from the tears that had fallen in her sleep.  Throat raw from the screams she’d held back, not wanting to disturb him, and yet knowing that she had.  There was a glass of water by the bed, ice floating on the surface.  Pushing herself upright, she took a few sips before rising and stumbling towards the bathroom.

 

Staring at her pale face, wan in the harsh fluorescent lights, she could not believe how far she had fallen.  Shorn brown hair looked limp and dead against her face.  Dark brown eyes with gray, almost black, circles under them dominated her thin face.  Her fingers traced her prominent cheekbones and she shuddered, hating the way they stuck out.  A shower would be good for her, clearing off the remains of the storm.

 

But as she stared at the bath unit, her mind sluggishly refused to cooperate and remember how to use it.  Finally, she managed to get the water flowing and undressed.  Standing under the spray, she allowed the lukewarm water to beat against her body.  Fiddly though the spray was, she at last felt clean enough to emerge.  Creating some undergarments as well as a few clothes, she dressed simply.  Walking out, she smiled tiredly at Abraham before noticing the two men with him.

 

As she didn’t recognize them, she took a step back, stopping only at Abraham’s gentle, “Greta.”  His hand extended in welcome to her and she hesitantly joined him.  “I’d like you to meet Howard Stark.”

 

She smiled nervously at the dapper, dark haired man whose very essence screamed entitlement and wealth.  His dark eyes twinkled at her roguishly, rather like he knew what she was thinking.  But there was intelligence in his face, something that was a comfort to her.  It was always among the intellectuals that she’d find reassurance.  “The man you met a few years ago?” she asked, titling her head in thought.  “At one of your expos?  Did you not speak of the possibility of reverse engineered cars?”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” Howard said, extending his hand.  There was only the slightest of hesitations on her end, so he shook it as he would Agent Carter’s.  Though she was terribly skinny – something a few good meals would heal – she wasn’t that bad looking.  Dark brown hair shorn close to her head, obviously it was growing back from being shaved off, she had brown eyes tinged with green.  And while afraid of him, she met his look evenly.  “I’ve finally got a prototype of one, almost ready for showing.  But I have to say, he never mentioned you.  I would’ve remembered that.”

 

“We were still newly married,” she demurred.  “I am sure it was not something he wished to bore you with as he has others.”

 

“My colleagues were not that bad,” he said.

 

“Abraham, they refused to speak to either of us for months, fearing that you would speak only of our marital bliss,” she reminded him.

 

A throat cleared and she almost shrank back into him.  “This is Colonel Philips,” he indicated the military man even as his arm wrapped around her in comfort.

 

“Ma’am,” he greeted.  Unlike Stark, he was not able to find a way to be comfortable with her or offer a comforting gesture towards her.  As a result, he merely inclined his head though his words were sincere.  “I am glad that you were found by Mademoiselle Greef.  We had heard that you had passed away or we would have come for you when we rescued Dr. Erskine.”

 

“Please, Colonel, it is enough that you freed my Abraham from the tyrannical rule of HYDRA.”  From the corner of her eye she could see Mr. Stark’s considering look as he studied the two of them.  It was a look she was familiar with, one that said he was aware that there was something more going on than what he was being shown.

 

She made a promise to ask Abraham about the man later.  Would he be the kind to help or hinder them?  Was Howard Stark even that trustworthy?  He may have been an inventor, but he was also a scientist.  Should he find out who and what she was, would he want to lock her up in a lab?  Would he wish to experiment on her?  Or was he the kind of man who would allow her to live in anonymity?

 

Neither of them could afford to have anyone figure out the truth, whatever that may be now.

 

“I’ll be home late,” he whispered against her skin as he embraced her, preparing to leave for the day.

 

She glanced up at him, noticing that he was seeing exactly as she was.  “I’ll wait up,” she quietly promised.  It was the truth.  She would always wait up for her partner.  Her relationships were built upon the roots of being there for them.  It was one thing she’d learned from watching the All Mother, knowing that her marriage with Odin wasn’t always the smoothest of relationships.  Yet it worked and Loki, mind curious and full of questions she dared not ask, had watched.

 

“You don’t need to,” he pointed out, knowing that she was still tired.  After hearing her stifled, well, _everything_ , he was tired himself.  It was in this precise moment of time that he hated his formula.  While he still believed it was necessary to complete it, to perfect it, he hated that it had created the second being to put fear in the goddess of mischief.  Former goddess of mischief?  Loki should never feel so afraid of anything again.  And he, who had promised to love, honor, and protect her, had brought into being the one who had done so.

 

Abraham had never felt like such a failure as he did in that moment.

 

“I want to,” she replied, hand reaching up to trace his cheek.  In that touch was forgiveness, understanding, and love.

 


	3. Stitching Loki Back Together Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Greta and Howard Stark meet Steven Rogers and both are impressed for different reasons. HYDRA happens - and then time flashes forward until we meet Tony Stark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My math sucks when it comes to figuring out time, so please just go with the flow.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has been following this story and to those who have left kudos. You are all awesome!

* * *

 

Greta was in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on a cold dinner, finally secure in who she was after two years of trying to reclaim her soul.  Looking out the window, she sighed.  There were still pockets in her memory, still gaping holes in her magic.  Of all the things that hurt, she believed it was the magic’s slow recovery that stung her the most.  Magic had always been an intrinsic part of who and what she was.  Abraham encouraged her to practice, believing that it was a muscle that needed the exercise.

And he was partly right.

Yet it was deeper than that and far more complicated than she could tell him.

Abraham would understand some of what she was telling him but there were others parts at work that would be difficult to explain for though it was like a muscle, it was not entirely a muscle.  The muscles needed for such exercise would need to be reborn.  Manipulated back into existence…and she wasn’t quite ready for that step just yet.  For the first time that she could remember…really remember, she was happy, content.

Loved by someone who loved her no matter what her moods were or who she really was.  She’d loved before but had never actually just **_loved_** someone.

The doorbell rang and she froze before shaking off her fears that she’d been found by HYDRA.  If it was them, Agent Carter had taught her a few things to aid her in escaping or subduing them.  Not to mention, she had more than a few tricks in her arsenal.  And a surprise that she hadn’t been expecting to come into her life, not that she regretted it.  A more private fear was that Asgard had somehow remembered her and decided to retrieve her.

They had no reason to come after her, none at all.  With the golem firmly in place, she was no longer the goddess of mischief, chaos, or even a Trickster.

Drying her hands, she walked to the door.  “Who is it?” she called out, fingering the knife in her pocket.

“It’s Steven Rogers,” a voice replied.  “I was given this address and told to inquire after a Dr. Erskine?”

She opened the door and saw the blond young man looking far too awkward in a uniform that was far too big for his body.  His eyes were sharp and honest, looking directly at her, unlike the last man who’d come seeking Abraham.  If nothing else, this impressed her.  There was something about him that reminded her of the past, how she used to be before Abraham had found her.  This must be the young man he’d told her about, the one he thought was right for his formula.  “He is with Colonel Philips today.  I do not know when or even if he’ll be home tonight.”

Watching him deflate, she suppressed a sigh.  “I will call and see if he’s available.  Please, come in.”

“Thank you, ma’am, but it wouldn’t be proper.  I’ll wait out here.”

Greta’s eyebrows rose and she looked at the dark clouds gathering above them, knowing that they were bringing rain.  Her head shook in reproach.  “You are being far too ridiculous, young man.  This is not weather anyone should be out it.  I’ll not have your ill health upon my conscience because of your honor.  Come inside right now,” she ordered.

Steve reluctantly entered the home and followed her into the main room.  But he couldn’t keep from looking around curiously, seeing the personal touches that dotted the small home.  A few potted plants but it was mostly filled with books and loose papers, it was obvious that neither was fastidious when it came to cleanliness.  Yet for all the apparent mess, it seemed like the kind of place he could relax in.

If he could just understand what she was thinking by letting him into her home while she was alone.  Just because he was frail and skinny did not mean that she shouldn’t be more careful.  Was she not concerned with her reputation?  Did she not think that he could have some weapon hidden somewhere upon his body that he could use?

The clatter of paws coming down the hall brought him out of his thoughts and he looked over to see a large, black wolfhound.  Though large was not the correct word to use when he realized that the dog was almost as tall as he was.  And looking into his eyes, he thought that dog wasn’t correct either – there was something almost wild, feral about them, that made him think that he was more wolf than canine.

“Fenrir,” she introduced them.  “Steven Rogers.  Steven, this is Fenrir.”

Knowing better than to appear as a threat, he stood still as the hound approached him.  He extended a hand and waited.  The black eyes studied him before sniffing his hand.  Steve was vaguely aware that he was being left alone.

“My husband remembers you.  He will be here with Mr. Stark as soon as he can,” she informed him.  There was a slight lilt of amusement in her voice as she observed them.  Fenrir had decided to like Steven for he’d forced him into a chair and placed the full weight of his body against him, holding him there – as if the young man would have been able to get away.  “You’re lucky Fenrir likes you.”

“This is lucky?”

“When he doesn’t like someone, he sits on them.”

It was all to clear to Steve why Mrs. Erskine had no fear of being alone with him and it had nothing to do with his lack of physical strength.  Fenrir would not be an easy body to move – especially if he was limp.  “Where did you find him?”

Handing him a glass of water, she affectionately scratched Fenrir’s ears.  “He found us,” she said as she sat down on the couch across from him.  “Tell me something about yourself, Steven.”

“What do you want to know?” he warily asked.

Titling her head to the side, she gave him a reassuring smile.  “Anything you wish to tell me.”

Steve pondered the woman.  Her interest seemed genuine enough, not that he had enough experience with dames to judge.  There was something about her manner that reminded him of Dr. Erskine.  “I’m just a simple man who wants to help his country, ma’am.  There’s nothing about me that stands out.”

“If that were true, Abraham would not remember you.  Nor would he interrupt his work to come home because you are here,” she refuted.  “If it would make you feel better, we can exchange information about ourselves.  I’ll even start if you’d like.”  Though she wasn’t sure she wished to tell him anything, she had to get a better understanding of him.  She knew Abraham would ask for her opinion.

“What do you think of America?”

“If I had to base it entirely upon my experiences in New York, I would say that I find it loud, pushy, and vibrant.”

“Vibrant?” the artist in him picked up the word.  He hadn’t thought any would think of the city in such terms.  If anything, energetic or lively would come to mind.  But vibrant spoke of colors and ambiance to him.

“Yes, a color to this city that I’ve never experienced before.  There is a pulse, a beat to the city that is alive and flows through one.  As a country girl, it tends to be overwhelming.  Where are you from?”

“Hell’s Kitchen,” he replied, his face almost completely closed off.  “It’s a tough neighborhood but the friends you make there are the kind who stay with you your whole life. How does your family feel having you so far away?”  He bit his lip, realizing that her family would be German and most likely dead.  Or they could be in a concentration camp – he’d heard about those from Bucky.

It sickened him that such places existed.  “I’m sorry, that was thoughtless of me.  They’re probably relieved that you’re safe.  If my dad knew what I was doing, I wonder if he’d laugh at me.  Or if he’d be proud of me because I’m standing up for what I believe it, I hear that he was the same way.  I know my mom would be.  She always raised me to never back down and to be proud of who I am.”

She breathed deeply, forcing herself to keep calm.  The youth was hardly to blame for bringing up unpleasant memories.  And she had brought it upon herself by giving him free reign with questions.  It was a question that needed an answer to, one that she could live with.  Who was she?  An orphan with no real family, cast out by the only home she thought she had.  Forced to survive by the grit of her teeth and the skin of her fingers without even the comfort of knowing who she was in Thor’s eyes anymore.

“It’s all right.  I…have no family other than Abraham.  Our children died in Dachau.  I never knew my parents for I was raised in an orphanage, continually passed over for those who were more ideal.”  A half-truth for the best of lies always possessed truth.  It took a discerning ear to be able to differentiate between the two.  As bad as Steven’s upbringing had been, he obviously had a good foundation to build upon.  The bullying had not made a bully of him and she had a feeling that it wouldn’t.

There was just something about his eyes that spoke of the decency of his character.

“You never had anyone?”  He sounded appalled.  The concept of never having friends or family hurt him.  Once he was orphaned, he never thought he’d have that again – then Bucky came into his life.  He didn’t know where he’d be without his friend.  “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t waste pity on me.”

Fenrir growled a warning and he flinched.  But he would not back down, such a thing was not in him.  “One can feel sorrow for someone’s situation and not pity them, ma’am,” he quietly said.

“I can see why my husband chose you,” she replied after a few moments.

“Now all I have to do is convince Colonel Philips of him being the right man.”

Steve watched the two and felt as though he’d passed some kind of test.  Just what was he getting himself into with this man?  And his wife, just who was she really?  Because for just a few seconds, he’d seen the face and form of another being entirely.  His fingers itched to get pad and pencil, to sketch what his eyes had seen.  A being that had been **_more_** somehow.  More real, more alive, more complete, less hidden, and he wondered if she’d been aware that she had even shifted.

“Where’s Mr. Stark?”

“In the car, he does not wish a repeat performance with Fenrir.”

Greta laughed softly.  “Oh, please.  Fenrir was merely playing with him.”

“You are more than welcome to try to convince him of that fact.”

“Not that she’ll have much luck,” Howard commented dryly from the doorway.  “That is not a dog, he’s a demon from the regions of Hell and I don’t know why you keep him about.”

“For the same reason that we keep you around – he’s cute.”

“Greta,” Abraham half-scolded.

“What?  It is truth,” she pointed out.  They had often remarked how there was something about Howard that reminded them of their son, Klaus.

“You make me sound like a puppy,” Howard complained half-heartedly.

“To be fair, you sometimes act like one,” she replied.

Fenrir barked a greeting at him and he jumped, looking at the animal warily.

“Is that a challenge?” she asked curiously.

“About convincing me that Fenrir actually likes me?  Not really and your neighbors are too nosy.”

“I think it’s your car that’s the problem, not the neighbors.”

Abraham turned his attention to Steve, rather confused by his presence.  “I hadn’t expected to see you here.”

“They wouldn’t let me onto the base, sir.  I believe that they thought I was lying when I told them that you wanted to see me.  Agent Carter is the one who gave me this address.”

Abraham frowned but he knew of the attitudes of those on the base.  Steven Rogers was the farthest thing from what they wanted as their man.  They did not hear what he was saying and therefore missed what he needed in his man.  While he was getting physically the best, what he needed was one who was emotionally balanced and morally steady.  None of the men they had shown him had those qualities.

“I will have to do something about that.  Not only have I made my choice but that behavior is unacceptable.  Steve, this is Mr. Howard Stark.  He will be helping us with the procedure should you agree.”

Steve shook his hand, more than a little awed by having those eyes focusing on him.  Not that Steve would let any of this show, the man had enough girls for that – and a few overzealous politicians for that.  “Having seen your work, I’m not sure I feel comfortable with that.”

Howard’s lips twitched, mindful on Fenrir’s eyes upon him.  “All experiments have some setbacks.”

“Somehow, I do not feel particularly comforted by that,” he said.  “Since I’ll **_be_** the experiment you’ll be working upon.”

“You got guts kid, I’ll give you that.”  This time, Howard properly looked at him.  There wasn’t much to him physically and he could see why Philips was leery of accepting him.  But there was something about his eyes, they spoke of a soul and a will far greater than the body could hold.  This was a kid, no – a young man – that Howard would stand beside willingly.

This time, there was something more to the way he was looking at him.    It was almost as if the man was cataloguing him, looking for his strengths and flaws.  Slotting him into place in his mind so that he would know how to deal with him.  If Howard Stark had been impressive from a distance, he was even more so up close.

And there was a tiny part of him that agreed with Mrs. Erskine – there was something cute about the man.  As an artist, Steve often found himself appreciating the male form.  He refused to think that it might be more than that even as his mind saw that more than cute, Howard was an attractive man – one he wouldn’t mind sketching.

“I’m a year younger than you are, sir.”

“Is that in calendar years or…” Howard left it dangling, feeling a sharp jab to his side.  A slight blush colored his face as he realized what he’d just been about to say.  Not that he was ashamed of who he was but there was a proper time and place for such things.  In the home of a man he admired and his wife was not one of them.

“And I shall properly introduce you to my wife, Greta.”  Abraham’s face held the tiniest bit of disapproval on it as he sent a warning look towards Stark. “Greta, Howard, this is Steven Rogers.”

 

* * *

 

“What did you think?”

“He’s honest, kind, and without your help will be denied what he most wishes to do.  This will either lead him to his death or into doing something foolish in an attempt to gain what he wants.  The second will also lead to this death.  Or did you mean that weird little moment between Stark and Steven?”

“I try not to think of the second, Greta.  It isn’t my business to question it, so I do not have to acknowledge anything should it happen.”

“Do you think it will?” she asked curiously.  “I only ask because it could prove to be a setback to your plans.”

“I don’t know,” he replied.  “And frankly, I don’t care.  If they find love and affection for one another, good.  I know that you don’t care much for Howard's manner but he is a great man.  There’s a good man trapped inside of him, kept there by endless people who always say yes to him.  I have a feeling that Steven would only say yes if it was something he felt was right and was truly for Howard’s benefit.”

Asgardian society did not have many with such inclinations but those that did were not rejected.  Seeing as how they had several centuries stretching out before them, they understood that love was a gift.  If they were unwise enough to reject it, Freyja had a way of reminding you how far her power extended – her power and her anger.  And since one of her lovers was actually her twin brother, she would know much of love’s demands and passions beauties.

“One would be foolish to reject a gift from Lady Freyja,” she softly said.

“Have I made the right choice?” he asked, somewhat pleadingly with her for validation.

Greta smiled and rolled into his arms, flicking her wrist to turn out the lights.  It was silly and a tad show-offish, but she couldn’t resist.  “You’ve made the only choice for him, Abraham.  For Steven has a great light within, one to counterbalance the darkness within the Red Skull.  Have you told him?”  She hoped he had, that Steven wouldn’t learn of the being from another.  Perhaps even the Red Skull himself, she knew that he was waiting and would love to desecrate the image of Abraham if it would be serve his purpose.

“I will.”

 

* * *

 

The figure in black had not moved all day though the rain beat down relentlessly upon it.  It was bitingly cold.  An unusual cold that had hung about the eastern coast since the day she put on the black clothes.  The wind bitter and driving, tearing leaves from the trees, beating them into subjugation.  She remained bowed by grief but unmoved by the weather.  Immovable, as though she was not a living thing but a statue.

“How long has she been like this?”

“She’s come here every day for the last three months.  I’ve tried my best but I’m not always available.  What she needs…well, she needs more than I know how to give.  To anyone,” it was almost a warning.

It was one of the few times that he ever heard Howard sound so lost.  So out of his depths and he reached out a hand, resting it on his arm for a moment, squeezing comfortingly.  Of the two of them, Steve was the one with the better reassuring skills.  While he still didn’t know how to properly talk to a dame, he certainly knew how to console them.  He knew it was because of all the time he’d spent in the hospital with his mom.

So when he heard what was going on, he hadn’t been surprised to see the inventor at one of his shows to talk to him.  The two of them had become working acquaintances after things had cooled down.  Howard giving him a few tips on how to be comfortable showboating even when he wasn’t.  Steve listening to him when he’d go on and on about this invention or that.  While they hadn’t really shared personal information, Steve felt like Howard was someone he could rely on.

And he never forgot that it was **_Howard_** who had prevented further experiments from being done on him.

Steve knew that there were some who wished to do more invasive procedures, who wished to push his body in all sorts of directions, some of which could be classified as torture, but Howard had refused.  And the SSR needed Howard’s intelligence and his money more than they wished to admit.  It was with great reluctance that they had stepped back.  It also helped that Senator Brandt had needed him and wanted him to push war bonds.

“Has no one else tried to stop her?”

“The only person who has been able to get close to her is me.  Fenrir stops anyone else from trying.”  He pointed towards the shadows and Steve’s eyes found the dog.  It was eerie the way it seemed as though he was able to watch her – and be completely aware of everything around him.  “He’s always back at the house whenever I’ve gotten her to leave.”

After a moment, Steve got out of Howard’s car.  “Mrs. Erskine, please, come inside and dry off.  He would not want you to do this.”

There was no movement for a long time before a deep sigh escaped her lips.  She did not even move to look at him.  “Leave me with my husband, Steven.  I am lost once more without him and need to be here.  Perhaps this time, I will be allowed the freedom of death.  Perhaps I can join him.”

Pulling off his jacket, he wrapped it around her before holding an umbrella over their heads.  This…these words were not ones he wanted to hear.  Defeatist, without hope, this was something that he really didn’t understand.  “He was a good man,” he quietly said.  Unable to figure out what he could say, “He was strong in ways that I don’t think anyone saw.”

A ragged sigh escaped her, “He saw that in you, Steven.  Abraham was the best man I’ve been with and no one wishes to speak of that.  They just wish to speak of his accomplishments.  He would’ve fought to prevent you from being merely propaganda.”

“The golden man of a new day,” he scowled.  “I wished to do something to help the war.  All I’ve done so far is smile and wave.  Too many of our soldiers are out there, dying and fighting, unknown.  Here I stand, all souped up on a serum, being wined and dined to do lip service.  To ask people to sacrifice what little they have in a war that others are fighting in.  Some soldier I am.”

Greta was surprised by the bitterness in his voice.  By the anger and frustration in him and knew he was teetering over an abyss.  He was a good man with a special gift.  But even good men could fall if twisted enough – and this inaction was hurting him.  What was that expression?  The road to hell was paved with good intentions.  And Steven was full of good intentions.  She looked at him, trying to see if there were any changes in his face and found none.

_Abraham, what do I do?  He needs you, needs your wisdom and belief in him.  He needs a champion in his corner, fighting for him_.

_Loki, he has you_.

“I’d hate to break up the drowned rat convention but you both need to get in my car before I call in the drugs.”

Not the human drugs would affect either of them but there was no need to let Stark know that.  A hand rested on the headstone, hating the cold she felt that held his name but none of his warmth, none of his soul.  A pulse of magic burrowed down, protecting the shell that had once held Abraham Erskine’s life.  There was some fear that HYDRA would find him and desecrate his body.  That they would try some experiment upon him, trying to be gods and restore life to him.  As he said, the formula was in his head.  And now that it was perfected, it would be something that HYDRA would crave.

“Be well, my love,” she whispered, slowly moving back.

Steve stayed beside her, helping her into the car.  “What are you going to do?” he quietly asked, giving Howard an apologetic look.  Water on leather seats was not a good combination.  A slight shake of the head had him relaxing.  If Howard minded, he would hear it.

“I’m going to fight for you, Steven.”  There was a terrible resoluteness in her voice.  “Because it’s what Abraham would’ve done.  And I need something to believe in again.”

 

* * *

 

1988  
Cambridge, MA

Luka Erskine sat with picture perfect posture under a tree, reading.  It was a pleasant enough day she supposed.  Pleasant enough that her roommates had forced her to go outside, ignoring her protests that it wasn’t good for her.  Even under layers of sunscreen and loose clothing, she had two settings – pale and boiled lobster.  She reminded them of that fact and they ignored her.  They always did, claiming that a little bit of sunshine in the afternoon wouldn’t kill her.

But what did they know?

And she supposed they were right.  It wasn’t the sunshine that would kill her, just the accumulation of the UV rays that became cancerous that killed one.

“Interesting book?” a voice asked, interrupting her thoughts.

Well, the voice drawled in the manner of one accustomed to receiving immediate answers.  Luka took her time to answer, placing her finger inside of the book as she closed it.  Her other hand shaded her eyes as she looked up at the young man who’d joined her.  Slender, brown hair and eyes, well dressed, oil on the sleeve of his white shirt – a shirt that had probably cost the equivalent of her monthly food bill – entitled, and slightly manic.  This could only be the infamous MIT student, Anthony Stark.

“Define interesting,” she replied, returning to the book.  A book which, if she was honest with herself, was not that interesting.

“Something that catches and holds one’s attention sometimes at the cost of another idea or subject of more value,” he answered, dropping to sit beside her.

“By something of more value, am I correct in believing that you are referring to yourself?” she asked, continuing to read.

Tony took another look at the brown haired girl, noting the rather sallow complexion.  His own skin tended towards that color when he’d been in the lab too long.  He’d heard enough lectures from his professors about the unhealthy state he was living in, he’d learned to tune them out.  Of course, they always turned to his friends to get him out every so often.  Hence, his current sojourn into the park – Rhodey and his best gal, Meredith, had conspired against him and threw him out.  Her look was so akin to his own, he’d stopped to chat with her.

“You could do worse,” he replied, leaning back against his elbows.

“And you don’t think I could do better?”

“Than Tony Stark?”  He sounded not only offended by the idea but scandalized that she thought that there could possibly be anyone better to associate with than him. “Don’t be obscenely absurd.”

“Oh?  Is that who you are?” she asked, finally looking at him again. “I thought the infamous Anthony Stark was less discerning in his manner of speech, caring only about the next warm body to conquer.  You seem to be far more intellectually stimulating than the bland playboy.”

Brown eyes with just the slightest hint of a vibrant green twinkled at him.  Shaking his head, he couldn’t help but laugh.  “You know exactly who I am.  Makes me wonder what I did to you.”

“Could this not be a case of your reputation preceding you?”

“Could be,” he agreed.  “But the reputation draws people towards me, not away.”

”Do I strike you as a particularly empty headed and shallow sheep?”

“No,” he drawled.  “You strike me as a Disney princess.”

“Snow White?”

“That would be telling,” he paused, eyeing her again.  “And to obvious.”

Luka had to hand it to him, he was persistent – and truly, he was far more interesting than her book.  Not that she’d tell him that, “Hmmm…not going for the obvious.  As he’s never done a human version of _The Ugly Duckling_ and I’m hardly the _Goddess of Eternal Spring_ type, perhaps you are referring to Eilonwy?”

“ _The Black Cauldron_ , nice guess, going for a relative unknown,” his lips quirked, probably picking up on something she hadn’t thought of.  “Although, if we’re being honest, Eilonwy was actually created by Lloyd Alexander.  Disney added prissiness to her – you certainly are that.”

“Prissiness?” she bristled, glaring at him.

“I’ve never seen anyone sit outside, on grass, as though they were in school.  You do know how to slouch, right?”

“Just how long were you watching me?”  The question sounded accusatory.

Pushing himself up, he smirked.  “I don’t have to be watching you to see posture, princess.”

It had been a long time since she’d been addressed so teasingly and never with the slightest bite of sarcasm.  And she supposed she deserved it, posture was an easy thing to see.  She let out a breath of exasperation, snapping the book shut.  “I bet you think you’re charming.”  The cat dropped suddenly into her lap cutting off whatever smarmy thing he was going to say.  Golden fur and intense eyes met hers, “Iárnvidjur?  What are you doing here?  Is it father?”

Their eyes locked before the cat climbed down and walked off.  Rising, she threw her book into her bag and took off at a run.  Inside, her stomach churned restlessly, knowing that something bad was occurring.  There was still so much she had to prepare for, to learn about from him.

Tony blinked, knowing that something more than a bad Lassie episode was happening here.  “I could give you a ride,” he called out, rising to his feet.

“I don’t accept rides from strangers,” she snapped.

“Please, I’m far too famous for people to overlook my actions,” he scoffed.

“And rich enough to get away with them.”  It was cynically said but there was no bite.

“It’d be faster.”

She wavered, watching as Iárnvidjur disappeared.

Grabbing her arm, he pulled her along with him.  "Where to?”  Under other circumstances, he wouldn’t have been so forward but this was so out of the norm, he felt it wasn’t misplaced.  Luckily for them, his car was actually in the vicinity and not back at the dorm.  He only wished he hadn’t left his cell phone back at the lab.  It may have sucked most of the time and been the most awkward and ugly thing ever but he had a feeling this was one time he needed it.

After brushing off her backside, she sat down in the car.  Her hands twitched around the handle of her bag.  Giving him directions, she added, “My dad’s an oceanographer, though he prefers the term marine specialist.”

“Dr. Jacob Erskine?” he asked, knowing of no other who made that distinction.

She shot him a look.  “You’ve heard of my dad?”

“The man’s genius rivals Jacque Cousteau – and my dad’s been wanting to talk to him ever since he came onto the scene.”  Tony looked uncomfortable for the first time.  “He thinks your dad could help him find Captain America.”

“Yes, my father does not chase after mythical heroes.  He prefers to ground his work in reality, something which disappointed grandmother but she understood that it was his choice alone.  Turn here,” she pointed towards the left.

They stopped in front of the only schooner – the Spørsmål Alt.  “Thanks,” she absently said as she got out.  Nothing felt out to the ordinary but Iárnvidjur wouldn’t have come for her for no reason.  The cat was sitting at the bow, watching her.  As she walked up the gangplank, the eeriness of the empty place had her shivering.  The sea was far calmer than it should have been at this time of day.

“Dad?” she called out.  There was a faint sound far below in the room that was partially hers but had been converted into a full time lab.  Knocking on the door, she pushed it open and saw him lying on the ground.  His fingers twitching as he grasped the air, searching for something.  No, she realized as she took in more details, he was spelling something in the air.

“Dad!”  She rushed into the room, falling to her knees in a haphazard manner.  “What do I do?” she begged.  “How do I fix you?”

Tony withdrew and found the phone, wondering why the cat was staring at him as he called for help.  It was creepy and he turned away, staring out at the river, waiting to hear the operator.  Something reared up, a dark and ominous shape – almost snakelike.  No, more like a plesiosaurus – and he dropped the phone as he jumped back in surprise.  His fingers rubbed his eyes under his glasses before he moved forward and looked out the window.

Nothing was there.

Shaking if off, he picked up the phone again.  A frown crossed his face as he realized that there should’ve been a worried voice at the other end.  Even a dial tone if they’d been disconnected before the call had gone through.  “Strange,” he said.  Hanging up, he checked to make sure that it was connected to the wall and to the unit before picking it up again.  Holding it to his ear, he heard nothing.

“I’m going for help,” he called out.  “Your equipment sucks.”  Only a strangled sound was his reply and he quickly drove off, worried but also thinking of ways to improve the cell phone so that it always worked.  Because it was idiotic to not have a viable resource to use when you needed help.

Luka felt Tony leave.  “I’m not ready to lose you, dad.”

“Ready or not, a force has been seeking us.  I can no longer shield us from it.  We need to become what we once were.”

“I don’t understand,” she quietly held back the majority of her tears, knowing they would not be appreciated.

“You soon will,” he breathed out.  As the words left his mouth so did the essence of his magic.  It wrapped around her.  “Remember who you are.  Who you really are, Loki.  You are of Midgard but you are more – so much more.”

Keening screams of pain escaped her as he went limp in her arms.  The emergency crew heard them and Tony felt chilled to the core as he pushed past them, stopping only momentarily at the sight of her bloodless face.  He couldn’t believe that only an hour ago, it held some semblance of color.  Even though he could see that it was too late, he coaxed her away, telling her that they needed room to work.

With one arm around her, he guided her out into the air.  She stared ahead with dulled eyes, seeing nothing.  Or perhaps everything.  It was a look Tony couldn’t describe but he stared, unable to look away from her until the limo arrived.  Of course, he’d known his parents were in town.  Not only was there a presentation at the school but his father was speaking to a few others about something or other.  Tony didn’t really listen since the news had been interspersed with his father’s lecture about not fooling around at school.

“Dad,” he greeted him almost stiffly.  There was a look on his dad’s face that Tony had never seen before.  There was a softness, a vulnerability there that he was uncomfortable with especially since this was his dad.  “Uhm, if this is about my using the Stark emergency response crew, I can explain.”

“I was unaware that you knew the Erskine family,” Howard dryly said.  But he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.  She looked so much like Greta in the setting light, it was like he’d taken a step back in time.  If he closed his eyes, he almost felt Steve walk up behind, full of news.  His hand firmly resting upon his shoulder, squeezing it in greeting and a signal, asking for permission.

Tony was startled by the lack of accusation in his dad’s voice.  For three years he’d been trying to talk to – even set up the humblest of communications – with the illusive Jacob Erskine and received nothing from the man.  Not even a rude no.  It was the closest to tears that Tony had ever seen his dad get.

“I just met her,” he answered.  “And I still don’t know her first name.”

“Lo…Luka,” she stumbled over the name, coming out of her thoughts abruptly when Iárnvidjur’s claw slashed her ankle.  “That was uncalled for,” she scolded the cat who just stared impassively at her.  As if to say _I didn’t draw blood so stop being a baby_.

“Luka,” Howard repeated slowly.  There was something familiar about the name.  Something he recalled hearing years ago, back in the Second World War, a conversation he’d had with Greta on a rainy and confused night, after Steven had...he cut off that thought.  Now was not the time to remember what happened between them.  “Norse mythology…you are name after Loki?  The god who brought about the end of all things?”

She shrugged knowing that her name was troublesome to those who knew the myths.  All things considered, she was rather lucky – she’d almost been named Lopt and that was hardly a feminine name.  “He favored the early stories, sir.  The ones told before the influence of Christianity changed Loki from the helpful trickster of every culture into a half-Satanic, half-Hermes god.  In the very beginning, Loki was merely a god of hearth and home, welcome everywhere.”

A genuine smile crossed the elder Stark’s face.  “Well, if the modern incarnation of the god is willing, why don’t you spend the night with my family?  I really don’t think that you should be alone and dorm life is no place to mourn.”

“That’s very kind of you but…”

Howard’s scathing _hah_ interrupted her.  “Please, I don’t do kind – just ask anyone.  I want to pick your brain your about what happened to Greta.  And if you know anything about your father’s oceanic research in the Arctic.”

Tony felt like he was missing something – something big.  It was like he’d stepped into an episode of _Twilight Zone_ – one of the really weird ones. “Dad?  I don’t think mom’ll like this.”  It was true.  She had never really understood this obsession his dad had with finding Captain America though at times it seemed like she knew something else.  This something else was the only reason she was supportive of his actions.

Obie constantly complained that it was taking valuable resources away from the company, searching for a man who would be out of sync with the world if he managed to survive.  Even if Howard’s theory was correct – and he couldn’t argue with it since Howard had actually worked on the project – looking for a man who would be both younger and older than everyone around him seemed rather cruel.

“I’ll deal with your mother, son, should she object.”

And there was the side of Howard Stark that she recognized from her grandmother’s stories.  The man that he was before he and Steven had become friends.  For in Steven he’d found someone who cut through the bull and kept him real.  This was a man who’d lost touch with all those around him and had faded away, becoming nothing more than a legend.  Howard Stark, the king of the mountain, a man with a vision and yet bound by those who’d caged him.  He’d seen the trap to late to escape but had created in Anthony the key to dissolve the gilded cage if he was even half the genius his father was.

“I believe that I should hear this invitation from Mrs. Stark, sir.  My grandmother raised me to honor the _lady_ of the household,” she paused, “And I shouldn’t wish to do anything that would disappoint her.”

Howard felt taken to task.  Greta always had been able to make him feel like a naughty schoolboy being sent to the principal’s office.  It figured that her granddaughter would also do so.  “Then let’s go see her, shall we?”  Extending his arm, he waited until he accepted it.

“Are you always used to getting your way even if it is not always in the manner you wish it?”

He laughed, “From everyone by Steve and your family, Miss. Erskine.”

“Good,” she replied.  “Entitlement never helped anyone in the end.”

“Oh, I don’t know.  I’ve not had much trouble in my life because of who I am.”

“I have a feeling that I should be appalled by such a comment,” she said.

“Why?” Howard shrugged.  “It’s quite true.  This world is a much better place with a Stark in it.”

Tony followed slowly, wondering who had taken the place of his dad.  Because this charming man certainly wasn’t him.  Sure, he’d seen his dad’s business manner among those he worked with.  He’d seen him work a crowd.  That was Stark 101, handling crowds and always being publicity ready.  But this?  This was not something he knew how to deal with.

Yes, his dad obviously wanted Jacob Erskine’s research.  He was setting Luka at ease so that he could have access to it.  Every one of his actions was calculated to get a certain response from her.  There was a certain familiarity to the way he dealt with her.  It was like he’d seen something similar and knew that this was the best way to work in this situation.  What Tony was seeing should have been a complete manipulation of her.

Yet, it also seemed like he genuinely wanted to comfort her and wouldn’t care if he didn’t get what he wanted.

Tony didn’t know how to handle this.

For a moment he debated about going back to campus and forgetting all about this…this…what just had to be more Captain Perfect weirdness.  Looking between his car and the limo, he wavered but finally followed his dad.  If he let this slip through his fingers, he knew he’d never forgive himself.  He’d spend the rest of his genius existence beating himself up over this stupidity.

After dinner, she followed Howard into the library.  “What do you wish to know that you could find no other way?”  Wandering around, she stopped suddenly, blinking.  “You knew my dad?”  Though it was obvious from the picture she was holding now that he did.  There was an air of easy camaraderie between the two men standing by the dock, looking out at the waves.  Her dad’s hands were paused in mid motion as he gestured emphatically towards something and there was a wry smile on Howard’s face that did not look like a stunt.

“He was a beneficiary of a Stark scholarship,” he said, watching her intently.  Studying her, trying to read her as he’d learned to read Greta, as he’d learned to read Jacob.  Unlike the other two, Luka seemed to have a firmer grip upon her shields.  “He never told you?”

“No, father was an extremely private man.  He was of the opinion that if you wanted to know anything, you did not ask for it.  You did the research and the work yourself.  If I wanted to know something, I turned to grandmother.”  She put the picture down, feeling dizzy all of a sudden.

_Howard, please listen to me_.

_No, Jacob.  Obadiah is my friend, one of the few I’ve got.  I will hear no more of this_.

Howard caught her as she stumbled, calling for Jarvis and a brandy as he helped her to sit down.  After a few moments and several sips later, color returned to her face and she released a sigh.  “Sorry,” she apologize, hand twitching.

“Howard, your questions can wait,” Maria gently remonstrated him from the doorway.  She wasn’t looking at him, her eyes – a darker brown than Howard’s – on her, deeply concerned.

“You’re right,” he agreed as he took the glass from her and helped her up.  “Forgive me and have a good-night, Luka.”

“Thank you for opening your home to a stranger, ma’am,” she whispered, making her way past Maria.  “Good-night, sir,” she joined Jarvis at the foot of the stairs.  She slept for about an hour before a heavy weight pressed down upon her chest, forcing air out of her lungs.  A hand clamped down upon her throat, robbing her of the ability to scream.  Hands forced her down, “Demon child,” a voice hissed in her mind.

Icy fire shot though her captor and she gasped, drawing in lungfulls of air.  Pushing aside the soaked covers, she opened the window and leaned out, allowing the cold night air to soothe the heat.  The attacker was dead but she remained wary, feelings of safety fled.  As she rubbed her arms, she pondered the presence and thought about what her father had said.  Words that were similar to what grandmother had said before she died.

They had quickly gone away, travelling around for a while before settling for a time in California.  During this time, she’d learned of the family heritage of mage craft.  What was called magic by many and a science by her father, she didn’t know which word she preferred only that there was something so comfortable and wonderful about magic that she’d forgotten her fears and doubts about being so different from others.

Now as she touched the cold glass, she could feel an increase.  It burned to be released.  Her skin itched and smoldered, but it was nothing that medicine could cure.  Only freedom to express what was flowing in her veins would help.  School could wait until she was in control.  There was no shame in taking a break for she’d always been top of the class.  But she could not leave until after the funeral.

For the rest of the night, she sat, looking out at the sky and wondering why her father had called her Loki – and why he referred to Earth as Midgard.  They had honored the past and found peace in the old religion but they hadn’t been that pagan.

Sitting down at the table, she nursed a small cup of coffee, properly sweetened.  Of course, just like the food, she didn’t think she’d be able to consume it.

“You look like something that the cat let the neighborhood stray drag in.”  Tony dropped into the seat next to her, “Find a pea?”

“Your home is not that palatial, Stark.”  But it lacked the bite she’d had only yesterday.

“This is a condominium,” he pointed out, studying her.  “Seriously, you look like crap.  Should you even be up?”

“When you’ve lost your only family, see how well **_you_** handle it,” she snapped.

Jarvis entered and just looked at Tony before he finished filling the side table.  “Miss?” He waited until she looked at him, reading the tiredness in her eyes and knowing that it was not going to improve any time soon. “There’s a phone call for you.”

“Thank you,” she said and stood up.  “Sorry I couldn’t eat, Mr. Jarvis, everything looks and smells wonderful.”

“It’s all right, Miss.”  He watched her walk out into the hallway and stop, looking around in confusion.  “The study phone, it’s the room next to the library.”

“Thank you again.”

“Sir, I know it isn’t in your nature but please attempt to be tactful and kind.  Miss. Erskine is unable to appreciate your wit and does not need the added stress.”

“Yeah,” Tony bitterly said.  “All right.  I get it, Jarvis – be anyone but myself.”

“I didn’t say that, sir.  I only mean that you should tone down your normal manner,” his tone was gently reproachful.

He looked down at his plate for a moment before looking at Jarvis, “Sorry.”

“Coffee, sir?”

Luka sat down at the desk, staring at the phone.  How could this have happened so quickly?  She’d just celebrated her sixteenth birthday last month, thinking that she had a few more years before she had to face the world of an adult.  She wasn’t ready to bury her father, let alone face the world.  In less than a day, she’d been orphaned and left to fend for herself in a world that had suddenly become ten times more scary.  “Hello?”

“ _Miss._ _Erskine?  This is John Woden_ ,” the voice on the other end sounded faint but recognizable.

“Right, my father’s attorney,” she rubbed her head.

“Everything all right?” Howard softly asked once she hung up the phone, leaning against the doorframe.

“Yeah,” she said raggedly.  “My father took care of everything.  I just need to sign some papers making me independent and say a few words at the funeral.”

Entering the room, he shut the door behind him before sitting across from her.  Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees.  “What do you remember?” he finally asked.

“Remember?  What do you mean, Mr. Stark?”  Hazel eyes cloudy with confusion and fatigue met his.

It was obvious to him that she was closer to what she had once been.  But still not there yet.  He finally sighed, shaking his head.  “It doesn’t matter.  All you need to know is that you were right.  Jacob was right,” he corrected.  “I should’ve listened to him.”

“Right about what?” she asked, curious despite her confusion.  And her growing worry over Howard’s state of mind.  There was something rather desperate in his eyes.

“It doesn’t matter now,” he responded, shaking off his mood.  “What do you know of your father’s work?”

“Not much,” she admitted.  “Father wanted to let me be my own person.  Discover my own talents and abilities, he felt it was the only way for me to be comfortable in the choices I make.”

“Sounds more like Greta’s philosophy,” he said.

A tiny laugh escaped her.  “She did raise me until the day she died.”

“Would you mind letting me see his research?”

“I wish I could but father…he never committed anything to paper.  He was always saying it could get lost or be destroyed by the water.  If he ever found a way around that, I don’t know.”

Howard looked to the side before a deep sigh escaped him.

“Its been almost forty-five years.  How can you still be looking for him?”

“Of all the eggheads he had watching his back, I was the one Steve trusted the most.  He’s still out there, waiting for me to help him.  I **_can’t_** let him down.”

“You’re welcome to look through our boat.  You might see something I’ve missed.”  There was something else there, something she was missing, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.  Something deeper to what existed between the Captain and the inventor, something important, and she had a feeling that she knew what it was already.

“Thank you,” his words were quiet.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meredith McCall – his sweetheart at MIT. She’s the daughter of a rival, so the two were broken up by their parents. She’s canon comic verse but I couldn’t tell you if this was before they changed the time line so he was injured in Afghanistan.
> 
> And, yes, Steve actually did say that Howard was his favorite egghead.
> 
> Spørsmål alt – shorthand Norwegian for question everything. The full text is actually stille spørsmål ved alt – but I think that’s a bit awkward for the name of a boat.
> 
> Iárnvidjur is another possible name for Angrboda. Yes, there’s a definite theme running through all of this.


	4. The Question of Soulmates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I changed Baldur’s death myth to give Sigyn a stronger, more definite role. Because, I’m sorry, but she’s a mother who lost her own child which lead to Baldur's death. In fact, she lost both. And yet she was willing to cry so that Odin could get his child back? What kind of mother does that?  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter introduces the connection between Loki and STARGATE.
> 
> I don't usually ask for comments but I'm rather uncertain about this chapter. I fear OOCness from my characters. So, if anyone has any advice or comments to give about keeping them in character even though this is an AU story, I would appreciate it a whole lot.

 

* * *

 

Luka climbed up the mountain and sighed, looking out at the land below her.  In heart, mind, and body, she felt every bit as old as she really was.  The crisp, clean air helped her concentrate but it did nothing to ease the ache and the confusion within.  Just what was she supposed to do with all of this stuff that existed in her mind?

 

While she remembered everything, or thought she did, she could not understand why her life was the way it was.

 

Surely there had to be another way, a better way, for her to live and be than this life hidden among a people who were only half hers.  If she had no way of gaining the knowledge in the Realms, in Asgard particularly, how could she even be sure she was once more whole.  How could she prepare to defend herself against an enemy she did not know anything about.

 

“You never called.  You didn’t write one letter,” a voice spoke from the side.  “Sara and I had to find out about Jacob’s death through the obituaries and then you completely disappeared.  I had to cash in favors that I was saving to find out where you had gone and when that didn’t work, went to Howard Stark for help.”

 

“Jack?”

 

“ ** _Howard Stark_** , Luka,” he snapped.  His distaste for the man evident in his voice and posture.  It was not that he really had anything against the man – he knew that Stark was one of the few people she reluctantly trusted – but the man rubbed him wrong.  She knew it was mostly due to his being a scientist.  “I had to give him a blanket promise in order to find you.  What were you thinking?  Were you **_even_** thinking?”

 

Her hands covered her mouth as she saw her father’s…her old friend.  He looked the same as he ever did, though his hair was longer than before.  Of course, there were other differences in his appearance.  While nine years had separated them in age, Jacob being the elder, it was **_Jack_** who looked far older.  “I haven’t seen you since the incident.”

 

“We are not talking about that,” he glared.  As ever, he was keeping everything bottled up inside.  While he was grateful for the help Jacob had given him after the mission in East Germany, he just didn’t like talking about it.  “I asked you some questions.  I think I have the right to some answers.”

 

Gesturing, two rocks formed.  A tree sprouted up behind her and she sat down, looking at him questioningly.  He joined her though his face remained set in stone.  “No, I was not thinking.  Jack…everything hit me in that moment.  **_Everything swirled around and I couldn’t focus_** ,” she emphasized.

 

“You really you?” he cautiously asked.

 

“If by that you mean once more the whole Loki, then yes.  But I don’t feel quite real, something’s missing,” she softly said.

 

“Meaning of life stuff?”

 

“More like meaning of soul stuff,” she sighed.  Removing the hair tie, she ran a hand through her hair.  “It’s like how I was when you found me in Vietnam.”

 

“Ah,” the word was breathed out slowly.  Yes, he remembered the rescue mission to get one of their top code breakers back.  Peggy Carter and Howard Stark had come into his life then, both worried about Jacob Erskine for very different reasons.  Upon meeting the man himself, he found himself drawn to him.  There was something about the geek that twigged his curiosity meter.

 

He also remembered meeting Greta and **_knowing_** that she was not quite human.  It was not something he thought about often but dealt with it the same way he dealt with everything.  “Wondering who you are?”

 

“And what,” she agreed.

 

“Come home, Luka.”

 

“I can’t.  The magic is too unstable,” she explained.

 

“Then promise that you’ll at least come to me first,” he said.

 

A smile crossed her face, “I can and promise to do that.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

_“Sigyn, your hands…” Loki’s voice was hoarse, almost hollow sounding in the cavernous room.  The venom from the serpent held momentarily at bay by the shallow bowl his wife held over his head._

_“They will heal.”_

_“They shouldn’t have to.”_

_“I said everything, husband, that I demanded all things from you.  Something which includes sharing in your punishments, not just in your triumphs,” she reminded him.  Her teeth grit together, holding back the wince that came as the venom splashed against her, burning her skin.  “It is an idea that I am loyal to.”_

_“And one that I must ask you to forgo,” Loki said, inhaling to prepare for what was to happen.  A scream tore from his throat as she was forced to step back, the bowl needing to be emptied._

_Sigyn glared.  “It was **my** plan, Loki.  **MINE** to make them pay for what happened to my Vali, to my Narvi, to my Jörmungandr, my Hela, my Fenrir, and my Sleipnir.  **I** refused to shed one tear for the All Mother’s sake, not you.  It would do you well to remember that.”_

_The hissing as the poison spilled down the side of the mountain and Loki’s cries of pain were the only sound.  “I deny and forget nothing,” he spoke the words between pants._

_“Then why do you persist in being stubbornly ox minded?” she retorted.  The bowl clutched tightly in her hands as she carefully resumed her place.  “I will not leave you to this alone.  The All Mother may have spoken and softened the All Father, convincing him to ignore my refusal to shed one tear so that he would get his child back but we share this.”_

_“Vali needs his mother,” he quietly said._

_She stilled and looked down at him.  His beautiful face scared but healing far too slowly, one of the All Father’s addendums to this punishment.  The veins stood out against his skin, the magic within dying, unexpressed.  “What did you do?” she slowly asked._

_“I have done nothing yet,” he replied.  “But you know the All Father as do I.  He will not be content with this.  By the strength in Mjolnir, he killed our child because I told the truth.”_

_“You fear he will do something to Vali?”_

_Loki was silent, gathering his strength.  The toxin in the entrails were draining his magic, pulling it from him.  Mind blinded with pain, he was unable to tell which would kill him first – the venom or the lack of magical expression.  “I do not fear it,” he softly said, “I know it.”_

_“I know naught of Midgard,” she replied.  “Let me take thine place, husband.  Weave your magic upon my appearance and let me suffer.  I would much rather die in thine place or lead our sons into battle against those that have wrought ill upon us than go there.”_

_“The illusion would not hold.  And you do not deserve this for rightly holding back your tears.  The All Mother was wrong to ask for your tears to regain her son when she would lift no finger to assure that you would regain your own.”_

_“I am afraid,” she admitted at last.  “Their ways are not our own.  We would be isolated for I would not know how to fit in with such a strange culture.”_

_“Be not troubled,” he spoke the words haltingly.  “You will do well there.  The Midgardians are not so different from us as stories make them seem.  If anything, we are the strange ones.  But at the core of who they are, they are like us.”_

_“I wish to remain.”_

_Cracking, shattering, he could feel his heart splinter within him.  “You will always be with me, Sigyn.  From the first moment I laid eyes upon you, you were in my heart.  My thoughts and my soul, keeping me from falling over the edge into madness and it is because of this that I must beg of you to take our son away from here.  Raise him right, raise him to be a good man among people not unlike us.”_

_Tears shimmered momentarily before she blinked them back.  She would not cry in front of him.  Even in pain, his silvertongue was still affective.  “How…how am I to blend in?  I will be seen.”_

_“Nay, mother, if you will allow me to,” Hela momentarily hesitated before she came forward, “I will make you mortal and shield you from his eye.  You would be marked as mine.”_

_“And Vali?”_

_“He as well,” she replied._

_Sigyn shook as she drew in a deep breath.  “Remove me from the books of the dead, daughter.”_

_“Mother,” she breathed out in shock._

_“Sigyn!”_

_“I said forever, Loki.  I will do this – but on my own terms.”_

_“If you do not remain on the books, you will not be reborn.”_

_“Oh, yes I will.”_

_Loki conceded that, “But you will not be born on Asgard or on Vanaheim.”_

_“Nor do I want to.”_

_“Sigyn, it would be impossible to find you.”_

_“For you may be,” she smirked._

_“You know not what you are saying.”_

_The sweetest of kisses placed upon his lips before soft words were whispered into his ear, “Loki, my Loki, it is you who does not understand my words.  I will find you again no matter how many times I must crawl across this planet.  No matter how often I must be born again, no matter the pain of each cycle, I will carry on until I am reunited with you.  When that happens, when we acknowledge each other as we really are, do not send me away again.”_

 

Luka sat up, the phone ringing shrilly, shattering the quiet of the morning.  “Hello,” she tiredly said, looking at the clock.  Shaking off the remnants of the dream, she realized that she was going to be meeting Jack in a few hours for breakfast and to finalize the fishing trip she was taking with him and his family.  It would be the first time she met Sara O’Neill and she hoped that they’d get along.  Otherwise, it could be extremely uncomfortable for Jack.  And she didn’t want to do that to her dad’s old friend, not when he took such good care of her.

 

“ _Welcome back to the states_ ,” a familiar voice said.

 

“Howard, would it be highly illegal if I killed you for being obscenely cheerful at 4 in the morning?”

 

“ _Probably not, though it would be considered terribly bad form._ ”

 

“Since when has that ever mattered?”

 

“ _I suppose I could’ve waited five more minutes_.”

 

Sitting up, she pushed her hair out her eyes and yawned.  “Too late for that, I’m mostly awake.  What’s up?”

 

“ _Could you stop by later today_?” he asked.

 

“Is everything all right?”

 

“ _Luka, I just need to talk to you._ ”

 

“All right,” she said.  “Get some sleep, Howard.  I'll stop by later.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Luka walked into the Manhattan house, nodding to Jarvis.  “Is Mr. Stark in?” she asked, knowing that it was entirely possible that the man got a call from work that needed his attention.  Or that he got involved in a project, he had a tendency to do that.

 

“Sir is waiting for you in the study.  The young sir is by the pool with his friends.”

 

“Thank you,” she smiled and handed over her coat.  Hesitating, she studied him, “Do you know what this is about?”

 

“I’m afraid that I do not, Miss.”

 

A smile quirked her lips, recognizing the slightly reproachful tone his voice took on.  “It was an unfair question, Jarvis.  I apologize.”  She knocked on the door and entered when given permission.  “I do hope you realize how lucky you should feel that I came at your summons.”

 

Howard looked up and smiled.  But it was weary, shadowed, and far more bruised then should have been.  “I did ask nicely.”

 

“By your standards,” she agreed.

 

“How have you been?”

 

“Better than you obliviously.  Are you sick?” she asked, sitting down on the leather chair.

 

“How do you do it?”  His voice was quiet in the room.  But his eyes…his eyes burned with a flame, a need to know the answer to his question.  It was the closest he came to admitting that he knew that she remembered who she was.  It was something they did not speak of often, both of them feeling uncomfortable without the buffer that Steven had been.

 

She stood up after a moment, trying to think about what to say, and walked to the window, staring out it.  The view before was mundane, adding a sense of unreality to the question he’d asked.  Though it was rather commonplace, she couldn’t deny that it was also majestic, with its clean lines and ruthlessly subdued yard.  It was entirely befitting the man who was considered a king in many ways.  She knew how heavy that burden was upon his shoulders.

 

The chair scrapped back and she heard his footsteps behind her until he was standing beside her.  Together they observed the scene.  Tony sunned himself on the pool, Meredith and Rhodey sat on the edge, feet in the water and Maria was enjoying a glass of iced tea under the umbrella, a book in front of her.  Jarvis approached her, telling her something, and she nodded.

 

“You helped me once, Greta,” he softly said.  “I need that help again.”

 

“Howard,” she bit her lip, eyes remaining on the scene below.  “I think you know that this is a different situation than when you realized just how you really felt about Steven.  You must also realize that though I have those memories, it isn’t the same.  What I remember is much the same way you remember a book you once read.”

 

“But the memories are there – just like the writing you hide upon your arms.”

 

She self-consciously tugged on her long sleeves.  Even after all this time, she preferred to keep them hidden away.  “The Loki of myths was a known lover,” he added.  "Surely you have some words of advice, of consolation to offer."

 

“Loki of myths was an amalgamation of truths and lies.  There is some truth to the stories – I was an absolute brat at times.  A mischief maker of no small renown but I was relatively harmless unless those I cared for were threatened.  Or something needed doing that the other Aesir were to weak to do, hence my stupid deal over the wall.  And then the Nons got involved and my children were taken,” she bitterly said.

 

“You expect me to believe that you had nothing to do with it?”

 

“I got drunk and told the truth, not to mention behaved badly.  My sons were punished for my actions.  And I made sure the All Father felt my pain by taking away his precious and most perfect Baldur.  It was not as secretive as the myths make it out to be.  I wanted him to suffer and to know by whose hand it had occurred.  But as Sigyn once said, I lack the conviction to actually follow through on my plans.”

 

“Sigyn?  Your wife?” he asked.  “The gentle goddess of fidelity?”

 

“That was just part of who she was, Howard.  Sigyn was absolutely ruthless in getting what she wanted.”

 

Howard’s hand braced against the wall, supporting his weight as what she was saying sank in.  “Did you kill him or did she?”  He felt ill at the thought of what was, essentially, premeditated murder.

 

“It was all me,” she carelessly shrugged.  “But she was the one who wouldn’t cry one tear.  Not one,” there was a note of pride in her voice as she said it.

 

“That sounds nothing like her.  So, the thing with the snake was her punishment?”

 

“Oh, she wasn’t punished,” she shared.  “At least, not in the way you are thinking.  I sent her away.”

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

“Neither did I until recently,” she ran a hand along the glass.  “Her mother’s all consuming grief touched the All Mother.  As a result, she forbade the All Father from punishing her.  But I knew that he would not let this lie.”  Her voice became bitter as she looked at him, “This is the man who bound me with my own child’s entrails.  A mother’s sorrow meant nothing to a man denied his will.”

 

Thinking of the words that burned on her flesh – words he’d finally gotten her to translate for him – he had to agree.  “What happened?”

 

 _Loki, no.  How can you ask this of me_?

 

The words were different but the accusation was there all the same.  She flinched now as she had then, hating her actions, justified though they had been.  “I made her choose.”

 

“Choose?” he repeated.

 

“Between an infant Vali or myself,” she tightly said the words.  “She could not ignore her duty as a mother – and I choose to end it all.  Midgard alone was spared my wrath.”

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

“Contrary to what the myths say, to what those in the Nine Realms believe, Ragnarök was never an assured thing.  I could always walk away, change the way the story went.  Should it come, all the Realms that are under the All Father’s rule will fall.”

 

“I thought Earth was considered his.”

 

“True, but it also falls under the rule of Zeus, Tezcatlipoca, Amaterasu, Marduk, Indra, Ra, Hunab Ku, Ahura Mazda, Coyote, Raven, and many others, not only from Midgard but other realms as well.  Coyote and Raven much preferred their roles as Tricksters but they were well able to perform both roles.  As you can imagine, all of them objected to being destroyed for something that was really only a problem on Asgard.  Thus, though the Nons would prefer to believe that I am destructive always, they are wrong.  I can control when and how it happens.”

 

“I thought those were just stories.”

 

“No you didn’t,” she corrected.  “If you had, you would never have asked for my help with Steven.”

 

Pain flashed across his face, “So much time.”  He expelled a breath, sounding like the man he once was, “So much wasted time.”

 

“That you spent with him?”

 

“Without him,” he fiercely corrected.  His hands scrubbed his face, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “I want Steve back – and it’s never going to happen.  Just like you will never be with your beloved Abraham again.”

 

Behind them, the desk exploded.  Wood shards flew at them.  Books and shelves tumbled down, pages lit up with blue flames.  Along the floor, fire raced towards and around them.  The window shattered and Howard ducked, eyes wide as he stared up at her.  “Do not presume to know what will happen in this or any other world, mortal.”

 

“Howard!”  “Dad!”  The frantic cries came and he quickly stood up, leaning out as she made an effort to control herself.

 

“I’m all right, just a slight mishap.”  But it was obvious that he was shaken.  In al the time he’d known her, he’d never seen her lose any kind of control.  He waited a few moments before returning, glancing at her while keeping an eye on those by the pool.  He **_really_** didn’t want them to be disturbed, “Not quite in control, are you?”

 

“If I hadn’t been, you would be dead.  Dare not to think that you can understand my abilities.”

 

“At least you didn’t destroy my bar,” he said, stepping over the debris.  Eyeing the hole in the wall, he shrugged and got his drink, gesturing around.  “This almost matches what happened at the lab with the piece of Tesseract Steve retrieved.”

 

She sniffed, “I didn’t think such a thing was possible.”  But there was a small smile lurking on her lips.

 

“Does this mean that you are no longer threatened?”

 

“I am always threatened by Thanos.  The difference is that now I am capable of hiding myself.”  She waved a hand and all was repaired except for the window, doing so would’ve been too noticeable.

 

Howard didn’t even blink.  Going to his safe, he pulled out two envelopes.  “This is for you,” he said, handing her one of them.  The other he looked thoughtfully at before putting it on his desk.

 

“What is it?” she asked, not wanting to accept it.  She’d learned the hard way that none of Howard’s gifts were free.  While he never asked for anything she was not willing to give him, the cost to the both of them was usually high.

 

“A way to be free from your slavery.”  He waved off her objection.  “I know you don’t think that you are – but you cannot escape the fact that you are.  What was done to you is wrong, Loki.”

 

“It was merely a way of ensuring my loyalty to my King.”

 

“You don’t carve words into a **_baby’s_** skin to do that.  A child should learn first and be given a choice, you were denied that right.  Take it,” he ordered harshly.

 

Her fingers closed around the letter, feeling something pass through her.  “I thought I told you not to interfere.”

 

“I like impossible challenges.  You knew this when you gave me the law scrolls of the realms.”

 

“I had hoped that the rather convoluted rules would make you see reason.”  She sat down, shaking her head.  “I should have realized that you would be stubborn and unreasonable.”

 

“The only unreasonable one here is you.”

 

“An idea we will have to agree to disagree upon.”

 

“We usually do because deep inside of you, you know that I’m right.  But like a stubborn god, you can’t admit it.”  Pouring himself another drink, he gestured to the drinks on the bar top.

 

She sent him a look that plainly said **_she_** wasn’t the only stubborn one in the room.  “Howard, I don’t drink casually,” there was a warning there.

 

Considering what they’d been talking around and about, he could see her point.  “Are you going to answer my question?”

 

“It’s different for everyone, Howard.  No one’s grief is the same.  Since such is the case, how can one answer serve for all?” she asked, tilting her head.  “But you asked me a question and you deserve an answer.  How do I do it?  I try to live as if any day I’ll meet someone with her soul again.”

 

“You really believe that?”

 

“Who else but she could love me through my madness, my weakness, and my paranoia?”  The letter went into her pocket.  “You met me after Abraham had helped me settle down.  But I was still far from well.  If Abraham had been anyone else, I doubt he would’ve known me or been able to reach me.  Why are you asking this of me now, Howard?  Why not before?”

 

Sitting down, he stared into the amber liquid.  “Have you ever woken up and found reality’s ugliness staring you in the face?”

 

“What?”

 

“Reality is something I’ve always bent to suit my needs.  I woke up yesterday and realized something,” he stopped.  Looking at her, he frowned.  “I’m not going to find him.  After forty-seven years of searching, I can look with hope no further.  I won’t stop until the day I die because giving up isn’t in me.  Quitting isn’t a Stark trait.  But every once in a while I have to face the truth – I’m not going to find him.

 

“And I just don’t know how to live this way anymore.”

 

His eyes were hard as he looked at her.  “Do not give me a paltry reply.  I want no pretty or poetic expression.  Loki, I want the truth.”

 

“From the one who is called the god of lies?”

 

“From the god of hearth and home,” he corrected.  “From a woman I consider a friend.”

 

“You just keep breathing,” she quietly said, unable to joke when he phrased his answer like that.  Howard had always been good at shocking her like this, showing his soul to those he trusted.  And he trusted few, not even Obadiah Stane had this.  “Breathe through the pain and the hurt, the loss and the agony of empty promises and dreams that will never be fulfilled.  You keep going until you no longer can.  And then you breathe some more until you can do more than the motions, you stay in life, and you just keep breathing.”

 

“Is that what you really do?”

 

“Yeah,” she replied, “Since I can’t truly die, I just keep going.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Can’t I die?” she finished the question.  “Hela is not quite ready for me to exit the world.  And until Sigyn and I know each other, it would not be kind of me to let her continue to live in an endless cycle.”

 

They sat in silence before he cleared his throat.  “Are you doing well?”

 

She shrugged.  “Things are as good for me as they can be.  I’ve met a few people, been trying to get back into school, and training myself in the magical arts – which is no easy thing.”

 

“I could arrange things with the school.”

 

“Howard, I do not want an easy ride this time.  And while you wouldn’t think of it that way, you have done enough for me.”

 

There was a knock, “Dad?”

 

“Not now, Tony,” he called out, rather surprised that it had taken this long for them to seek him out.

 

“Mom wants to know if you’ve called about the window and to remind you that Obie is supposed to be here in an hour.”  It had taken them long enough to come up with a good enough reason to check on Howard.  Tony still wasn’t sure why he’d been elected to go but figured it had something to do with Luka being there and his mom’s strange reluctance to be around her.

 

“I’ll be ready when Stane comes,” he snapped.  Seeing her look of shock, he softened his voice.  “Thank you, Tony.”

 

“Sure, dad.”

 

They heard him retreat.  “I just don’t understand him,” Howard finally explained.

 

“Have you tried?” she asked.

 

“He annoys me.”

 

“Like you is he?” she slyly observed.

 

“Were any of your children?” he shot back.

 

“Hela,” she replied without hesitation.  “My boys held facets of my personality but she has the most of me.”

 

“Did you get along with them?”

 

“It was up and down until Sigyn took all of us in hand and laid down the law.”  Her eyes went distant.  “I would have been lost sooner without her.  She was in so many ways greater than I but she never saw it that way.  Sigyn wanted to be my equal.  And she was.  Meeting Abraham was a miracle, one I desperately needed.”

 

“Would you like to meet Dr. Strange?”

 

“No,” she flatly refused.  She raised her hand to stop his question.  “Until I am fully myself in memory and power, he is a threat.”

 

“So you don’t need a teacher,” he mused, “Perhaps a student?”

 

“You think to understand my magic as you would one of your sciences?”

 

“Can’t hurt,” he cheekily said.

 

She thought about it, leaning forward and resting her arms on her legs.  “It would be too dangerous for me to actually make you my student.  But I can practice around you.  If you were to learn a few things by observation, who am I to object?”

 

“Will it help?”

 

“It is not something that is done because there may be some fallout,” she was careful with her words.  “And I cannot say that it will help.  But I do not believe that there will be any real, lasting harm done.  The greatest threat I can see is that someone will walk in.”

 

“Simple solution really, we do it at my private lab,” he shrugged.  “No one is allowed there without my express permission and daily given consent.  You would have carte blanche to do as you pleased.”

 

“You don’t think anyone will find it suspicious that I am given this right?”

 

Howard quirked an eyebrow, “You saying that you can’t get in without being seen?”

 

“Are you giving me permission?”

 

“Not to misbehave,” he replied.  “But you can go there anytime you need to.”

 

“That’s very generous of you, Howard.  Why?” she asked.  In times like this, she was always surprised by his ability to give and ask for nothing in return.

 

“I may need a cart blanche favor from you one day,” he replied, reminding her of the ruthless business man he also was.  “As much as I wish to say that this is merely sentimental nostalgia, that I am doing it because you are a friend, I’m a realist.  I am not drowning in melancholia though sometimes I can’t help but…” he trailed off, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

 

“You can’t help but long for what once was,” she supplied.  “Howard, why do you think that I left civilization behind after we buried my grandmother?  After I buried my dad?”

 

“Do you know how bizarre that sounds to me?”

 

She smirked, shaking her head.  “This from the man who could go toe to toe with the freaky mad genius that was Armin Zola’s mind, who literally spat in the face of the Red Skull and dared to laugh at his tortures, who dreamed up the arc reactor technology and made it work, and came up with the most outrageous plan to attain his happily ever after?  If anything, you are the bizarre one here.”

 

A bittersweet smile crossed his face.  “It would’ve been amazing.”

 

“I have no words to express my thoughts to you about this, Howard.  There truly is nothing that will not give you hope or destroy your hope,” she paused, unable to feel anything but sympathy for him.  She knew what it was to be where he was.  “But Sigyn found me again when I needed her the most.  Who is to say that in Steven’s darkest hour, you will not be there for him?”

 

“I can’t say that I see Steve ever needing me.”

 

“Was he not the one who kissed you first?” she asked.

 

“What does that have to do with anything?”

 

“To a man raised the way Steven was, to throw caution to the wind on an infamous playboy, to grab that gold ring among brass ones…how could you think he doesn’t need you?  Howard, you are a fool to believe such a thing.  I remember his face when you were captured.  The terrible, icy cold resoluteness on it.  I tell you truthfully that it was one of the few times I feared Captain America.

 

“Steven’s own innate compassion and goodness were the only things that stopped him from burning everything in his path down until he found you.  He might not have said it but he loved you.”  And she knew her words fell on deaf ears for hers was the voice he didn’t want to hear such words from.

 

* * *

 

1993  
University of Chicago

 

Luka sat in the library, watching the dust motes swirl around in the air.  Occasionally returning her attention to the books before her, she couldn’t keep her mind on the work.  This bothered her greatly for she had worked her butt off to catch up on all her studies and get into a decent college without Howard’s help.  While it bothered him, he had finally accepted that she couldn’t continue to exist off of his patronage.  She’d never learn if he didn’t let her try to find her way.

 

For a moment only did her eyes mist over.  His death had been hard, she missed him more than she thought she would.  He was annoying, brash, charming, and ran roughshod over everything to attain his goal.  And she couldn’t escape from the feeling that something was not quite right with his death.  Howard had always done the work on his cars, never wanting anyone to mess with them.  Yet, she was to believe that it had been a mechanical failure?

 

Arrogant he might have been, but Howard **_knew_** what he was doing.  Until Tony had shown his talents, there had been no one better than he at the mechanical arts.  Pushing such thoughts aside, she concentrated on the here and now. Because in this precise moment, she was wishing she’d accepted his help in getting some accelerated classes.  Her refusal meant that she had to take those classes she had no real interest in but that would give her the required credits she needed in order to pursue her career of choice.

 

And she had been given a few options.  She’d thought that this class on cultural anthropology would be interesting.  With so many diverse cultures and people coexisting on Midgard, some of whom she’d spent years living among, she thought it would be fascinating to learn about them from an academic perspective.  It had worked with some of her other classes.

 

Yet, this one was different.  The teacher was interesting when he wasn’t going by what the books were saying.  He’d assigned so many reading assignments, she was starting to have nightmares of the books plotting to take over the world by putting everyone to sleep.  Fear of books was a new one with her for she used to love to read anything she could get her hands on.  It was a strange thing for her to let her mind wander, she could only wonder if something was wrong.

 

Or if the subject she was studying was really that dull, she growled under her breath.

 

“Yes, I have to agree.  Dr. Jordan always chooses the worst books to teach his subject.”

 

She looked up, seeing the teacher’s aide standing there, a book in his hand.  Shaggy brown hair, over large glasses on a lean face, he seemed kind enough, though she didn’t really know him well enough to judge.  She had seen him around, usually with that Raynor fellow and Dr. Gardiner.  “Well, that’s a relief.  I was beginning to think it was me,” she replied, realizing that he was waiting for a reply.  “Should you be mingling with us common students?”

 

Luckily, he seemed to get the tease in her words.  “An anthropologist must, at times, put aside their desire for comfort and mingle with others in an attempt to better understand them.  Fortunately for me, I choose the higher mind of a college student as opposed to the hormone riddled brains of the teen-ager.”

 

“Are you suggesting that we aren’t hormone riddled?”

 

“You may be, but definitely have more control over the impulses.”

 

“Making us studies in repression or suppression,” she retorted.

 

“I would’ve said studies in reasoned application of human courting rituals,” he replied.

 

She laughed, “Luka Erskine – yes, Abraham was my grandfather.  And Jacob was my dad.”

 

“Daniel Jackson,” he introduced himself, “Nick is my grandfather and most consider him crazy.”

 

“Would you care to have a seat?”  A slight frown crossed her face as she realized that she knew his name from one of the pamphlets she’d read.  “Don’t you already have a doctorate?”

 

“Going for my third, Luka,” he said, sitting down across from her.  “You don’t mind if I call you that, do you?”

 

She waved it off, wondering about him.  “Want to be a permanent student?”

 

“I just love to learn,” he shrugged.  “What about you?  You hardly seem the anthropologist type.”

 

“There’s a type?”

 

“Geeky, socially awkward, brilliant, and incapable of dressing themselves without the help of people with more fashion sense than monkeys,” he replied.

 

“How can you be expected to learn about a culture if you haven’t learned to blend in?” she asked, rather puzzled.  “Wouldn’t that defeat the point?  And monkeys may not know fashion but they are highly social animals, well known for their communities.”

 

“Are you suggesting that stereotypes are wrong?”

 

“I’m suggesting that they need updating,” she replied with a smile.  “Or that they may be exaggerated in some cases.”  For the next half-hour, they talked about many things and she decided that she rather liked him.  It was not something she was quite sure how to handle.

 

“Daniel,” an irritated voice said.  “You were supposed to meet Steven and me for lunch.”

 

He flushed, looking at his watch.  “Sorry, Sarah.  I forgot the time.”

 

“You always forget the time,” she sighed.  “Still, it has been a while since you have done so.  Dr. Jordan wishes to see us in his lab.  He has something he’d like us to see.”

 

“All right,” he rose.  “See you around, Luka.”

 

“I’m sure you will,” she murmured, nodding to Sarah.  Watching them leave, she rubbed her arms and then pulled the book back onto her lap.  While she’d enjoyed their talk, she had allowed herself to be distracted for too long.  She needed to get back to work.

 

* * *

 

“If I told you that I thought the pyramids were older than documented, what would you say?”

 

“I’d ask if the Egyptian civilization also went back that far.”  She put down the flask of heated liquid and looked at him.  Recognizing the look of someone who needed a sounding board, she silently thanked her teacher that this was merely a practice experiment and not something that would be graded.  Turning down the flame, she stepped back and took off her goggles.  “Why?”

 

“Promise you won’t laugh?”

 

“And open myself up to your scathing words later?  I shall not make fun of you, Daniel.”

 

Still, he hesitated before he sat down.  From his bag, he removed documents and pictures of not only the pyramids of Egypt but those in the Americas and on other continents as well.  When he first began to speak, his words were soft and haltering, finding their way slowly to what he was trying to say.  But the more he spoke, the more his confidence grew until the words came out of him, fast and passionate.  His hands found the appropriate picture or part of a document and he passed them over, pointing to each in turn and explaining them.

 

By the time he was finished, she really didn’t know what to say.

 

After a moment, she looked at him.  “You do realize what you are saying, what you are proposing, right?”

 

“I’m talking about a revolution of ideas,” he agreed.  “But in the face of this evidence, how can I not?”

 

“Do you not fear unjust comparisons to your grandfather?” she delicately asked.  Being one of the few who had met Dr. Nick Ballard through Daniel, a fact she knew bothered Sarah.  She wasn’t sure why he’d introduced them but since Daniel had a hard time trusting anyone, she didn’t question it.  The man was a genius and far from insane.

 

Of course, she could prove it.  She’d met his giant aliens – and angered them – about half a century before her willing exile upon Midgard.  And it wasn’t entirely a mistake, she’d never been fond of Quetzalcoatl.  But it really wasn’t her place, though she had a sneaking suspicion that both Ballard and Daniel had some inklings of the truth about her.

 

One could hardly hide from geniuses who had a nasty habit of thinking outside of the box.

 

“I fear not being myself more,” Daniel replied.  He stared at her, “I’m sure you know what that’s like.”

 

“Then you must do what you feel is right, never mind what others think.”

 

“And if it blows up in my face?”

 

She was silent, wondering what he wanted to hear.  There was no easy answer to his question.  And what he was thinking about, contemplating doing, it was just opening himself up to a world of hurt.  She couldn’t give him the easy answer.  And as his friend, she wouldn’t do that to him.  “Then you will always have a friend in me.  And there will always be those who appreciate the truth.  They’ll find you, sometimes when you don’t expect them to.”

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wish I could find a decent crossover of the two in which Jack argues with Thor that he can’t possibly be Thor because he looks, acts, and sounds nothing like him. Nor is he as smart as Thor is and Jack would know, seeing as how they’re buddies and all. I’d love to read a good Jack and Thor argument because you know that 1 – Daniel would do his whole ‘I am embarrassed to know you’ thing. And 2 – Jack might actually get Thor thinking he wasn’t who he is just because he’s so stubborn. It’d be awesome.
> 
> I’d like to see Carter being put in her place by Tony Stark because it seems like she never makes any mistakes and even the ones she does make are brushed aside. As much as I like Rodney and think he’s a better scientist because he learns from his mistakes, she doesn't. And they don’t respect each other enough for it to work.  
> Tony wouldn’t put up with her – he certainly wouldn’t get all fangirly over her. (And yes, I have read a story in which he did just that. That ain’t Tony people.) If anything, she’s the one who’d be squeeing over him. He IS Tony Stark after all.
> 
> These kings of the gods are from Greek, Aztec, Japanese, Mesopotamian, Hindu (later becoming the Brahman trinity), Egyptian, Mayan, Persian, Miwok, and Haida.


	5. This is where things get interesting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony Stark and Luka Erskine meet once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where it gets tricky because I want to be faithful to the Iron Man story where he saves himself but throw in the Luka friendship factor in a way that doesn’t have her doing the saving. It was tricky but I think I resolved it.

 

* * *

 

Las Vegas, 2009

 

It had been a few years since Luka had been on American soil with the intent to stay.  The last time had been on one of the saddest days of her life – Charlie’s funeral.  And she’d only gone because of Jack.  But it had been hard for the funeral reminded her of Howard Stark’s.  Three different lifetimes crowded her mind, each one with a different Howard in them.  It was strange how one man could play so many different roles to one person and always be the one that was needed even if she had hated and resented it at times.

 

She found it amazing that he had never betrayed her secret – not even to S.H.I.E.LD. when they'd been on the outs. 

 

And, yes, she knew that they did not abreviate their name like that.  But she was following Jack's lead on this and refused to use the whole name finding it ridiculous and awkward.

 

Entering the lobby, she noticed the gathering of civilians and military personnel.  For a moment, she thought she had the wrong place until a familiar voice called her name.  Scanning the room, she relaxed when she saw familiar blue eyes behind glasses waving to her.  The man put down his glass and walked over.  Meeting him half-way, she embraced him, “Daniel.”

 

“If you were anyone else, I’d have shot you,” a voice spoke low in her ear.

 

“General O’Neill,” she greeted him and gave him a tentative hug as well.  The instantaneous response had her sinking into his warmth, thankful that he’d forgiven her for not bringing Charlie back to life.  It wasn’t that she hadn’t wanted to – she had.  Standing there, hand on his shoulder, her own grief swelled up inside for all the children she’d lost over the years.  Both in this life and in the previous life but she knew that it wasn’t possible.

 

One didn’t mess with the stewardship of another god without risking everything.  It seemed that Jack had finally accepted the wisdom in her words and she knew much of that was because of Daniel.  The man had been a genuine godsend into his life.  And, by extension, hers for he had given her old friend back to her.  “As if I’d ever hurt Dr. Jackson. I’m scared to death of you.”

 

“Shows how street smart you are.”  Hidden in his voice was an apology and she gently squeezed before stepping back.

 

“And I’m not smart?”

 

Jack snorted, reassured.  “Daniel, you have no street smarts.  That’s truth which has no connection to your PhDs.”

 

“May be I should take my not smart though somehow granted PhD gifted self somewhere else.”

 

“Think about what you’ve been doing for the past eleven years and how much of that you have to explain to the insurance people?”

 

Luka looked between the two of them, giggling.  The tension she’d been carrying around unknowingly slid off of her shoulders as she listened to them. “Is this one of those things that I’m not supposed to know about but do anyway?”

 

“Yes,” Daniel answered before Jack could.  “Which reminds me, I thought you were coming in tomorrow.”

 

She shrugged.  “I was given an earlier flight with no explanation.  I thought you guys did something as I couldn’t find anything weird in the offer.”

 

Jack looked as puzzled as Daniel.  “No, I have to be here for the presenting of the Apogee Award to a certain Tony Stark.  There was no reason for me to get you an earlier flight.  I know that you aren’t fond of trying to reset your internal clock at night.”

 

“The Apogee Award?” she repeated.  “Isn’t that an award that goes to artists?”

 

“That’s one of the awards,” Jack shrugged.  “This is a lesser known one, honoring excellence in engineering.  He more than qualifies.  Odds are he won’t be here.”

 

“Why?”

 

“It’s something his dad would’ve valued.  So, like many sons, he feels the needs to spit on those values.”

 

“Don’t you think that’s rather…harsh?”

 

“I’ve not seen any sign of maturity in him, though that might be because of Obadiah Stane.”

 

And he was a subject that Luka didn’t want to go into.  “And Daniel?”

 

“I’m here because he tends to do stupid things at functions like this in an attempt to get them to stop inviting him.  It never works but I usually end up bailing him out – both metaphorically and in reality.”

 

“Sounds like Jack,” she snickered.

 

“How are you?  Really?” Jack asked, valiantly fighting a smile even as he studied her.  It could be due to the flight and the area she’d been living in recently.  But he didn’t like her wan face – not at all.  Under his watch, she was going to eat and rest.  “Still hugging trees while waving around pointy, glowing things?”

 

“I’m an environmental scientist, not an environmental extremist,” she corrected.  “And performing magic paid the bills which got me through school.”

 

“So, that’s a yes.”

 

“And you know that I also work as a cultural linguist.  I’ve got a job interview lined up in three days, so it could be for not that much longer.”

 

“Who with?” Daniel asked.

 

“Hammer Enterprises,” she stopped, seeing Jack’s expression.  Looking over at Daniel, she notice that his face was also closed off.  “Something I should know?”

 

Jack and Daniel looked at each other.  He carefully said, “Nothing been proven against him ethically but I personally don’t care for him.  If it were me, I would be careful in how I answered things.”

 

“If it was you, Jack, you’d tell him where to get off,” she corrected with a sigh.  “I guess I’ll just have to stick with travelling around doing magic and deciphering languages – I’ve never known your instincts about people to be wrong.  A tad extreme at times but never wrong.”  There was an announcement and she stepped back, tilting her head.  “See you for lunch tomorrow?”

 

“Considering I’m the one who invited you, I’ll be there.”  Daniel’s tone was dry and yet full of fondness.

 

After checking in, she went outside and took a moment to orient herself to the bright lights of Las Vegas.  Oh, how she despised the falsity of this town.  Though it was a town of masks and games, she found the sheer volume of waste bothered her.  It wasn’t just the waste of talent, it was seeing what mockery magic had become.  There were some true users but in her opinion they took the fun out of the illusion by telling people the secret instead of challenging them to figure it out.

 

As much as performing magic had fed her soul, had allowed her to heal, she had to stop.  It didn’t fully pay the bills because she wouldn’t play by the rules that the newer magicians established.  She refused to tell anyone how she did what she did.  The wonder on the faces of her audience, seeing that awe, that childish glee that she enjoyed the most.  Now she performed when asked and for no other reason.

 

“From The Daily Bugle,” the voice cut into her thoughts and she stopped.  Before her were two men stopping a woman from approaching the man beside the limo.  As that was the direction she was heading in, she waited for them to move on.  In this town, it was never safe to cross the street even in a crosswalk especially at night.  It wouldn’t take long – the woman was attractive and it was a man.

 

The guards moved to the side as the man walked towards the blond – and right on past her.  An eyebrow rose when he stopped in front of her.  “Hello, princess.”

 

_Tony Stark_ , her mind supplied.  “Do I know you?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.

 

“Are we really going to do this again?”

 

“I don’t know since you walked past someone better to **_do_** ,” she smirked.

 

“Hello, Luka,” he said with a laugh.

 

“Oh, be still my heart,” she drawled.  “The amazing mind of Anthony Stark that barely remembers a person he just met, remembered a woman he met almost twenty years ago.  I’ve reached the pinnacle of my existence, my life can only go downhill from here.”

 

“Remind me to keep you away from Pepper,” he said, removing his glasses to get a good look at her.  “How have you been?”

 

“Can’t complain,” she replied.  “You?”

 

“Mr. Stark, my questions,” the woman impatiently reminded him.

 

“I’ll leave you to it,” Luka murmured, resigned to returning to the hotel before she’d made her stop.  Perhaps the good sorcerer would be in his establishment during the day, though it was hardly his manner.

 

Tony shook his head.  “Don’t even, Luka.  I’ve been looking for you for a while.  Go sit in the limo with Happy, this won’t take long.”

 

“Excuse me?” she glacially asked.

 

“Cool it, princess, I just want to talk.”

 

“You think you’re entitled to that right?”

 

“I think I’m entitled to an explanation.”

 

“I very rarely explain myself.”

 

“And I very rarely give anyone another chance.  Please,” he exaggerated the word, “Go wait in the car.”

 

She stared at him for a moment, debating what she remembered of him and the reality that was the Stark name and reputation.  The man before her bore some resemblance to the young man she’d met before but there were differences.  Finally, she nodded her head, “I never did anything that would cause me to _need_ a second chance, Anthony Stark.  From you or anyone.”

 

Stopping by the friendly looking man, she smiled at him.  “I take it that you are Happy.  So, does that make him Grumpy and the other, what, Dopey?”

 

“Yes, ma’am, we left the others at home.”

 

A genuine laugh escaped her.  “Oh, I think I could like you.”

 

“Thank you,” he said.  As they quietly conversed, he couldn’t help but wonder who this Luka was.  It had not escaped his attention that she was not only an unknown to Pepper but important enough that the boss remembered her.  In all the years that he’d known Tony, he knew that man rarely – if ever – remembered anyone he wasn’t in constant contact with.  And even they were luckily if he recalled them and what they actually did.  It was always on Miss. Potts to do the write ups for anniversaries and other special occasions.

 

“You know, you could be enjoying the comfort of my car.”

 

“It’s a nice night,” she shrugged.

 

“The low tonight is in the high nineties and humidity is at fifteen percent.”

 

“And I just returned from a place where the high was in the upper thirties.  Plus, I’m an ecologist,” she said as she slid into the car.  “I’m not fond of senseless waste.  Though I suppose the sheer amount of hot air you expel would be both renewable and able to power your car.”

 

“Kitten’s redeveloped her claws,” he commented, trying to put his finger on just what it was about her that was so different.  It wasn’t just that she had grown-up and filled out, though at the moment she rather resembled a starving chicken.  It was something else, something intangible.

 

“I thought I was a Disney Princess.”

 

“Ever seen Mulan?” he asked, seeing her stifle a yawn.  “Why aren’t you in bed?”

 

“I may be tired but my internal clock is all wrong,” she explained.  “I’ve learned the hard way that I have to let it reset on its own.  Where exactly are we going?”

 

“My home,” he replied.

 

She leveled a glare at him, one she knew Rodney would be proud of.  Of course, he’d also take full credit for teaching her how to do it.  Sometimes she wondered how Ashtaroth and he worked but then thought it was something she preferred not to know.  Mainly because if she started asking, the Ori would start pressing her for details on her relationships and that would open up a can of worms considering he **_had_** been one of those albeit very briefly.  “If you wanted an after gambling delectable, you should’ve taken the reporter and not me home.”

 

“Luka, I just want to talk.”

 

“Do you even know how to do that with a woman who is **_not_** the efficient and preternaturally patient Miss. Pepper Potts?”

 

Tony silently contemplated her.  “With you, I don’t really want to do anything else,” he paused.  A mischievous light entered his eyes, “Yet.”

 

“Try ever, Stark.”

 

“Is that a challenge?”

 

Her phone rang and she pulled it out, concerned when she recognized the number.  “What’s going on, Jack?”

 

“ _Rain check on lunch tomorrow?_ ”

 

“What happened?” she asked, then stopped.  “Is this one of those things I’m going to ignore because I am not supposed to acknowledge that it is a reality?”

 

“ _That’s why you’re the magician._ ”

 

She laughed.  “Jack, you know I hate that word when used in that context.”

 

“ _Don’t care,_ ” he replied, “ _So?_ ”

 

“Call me when you want to meet up.  I did come back to the states mostly for you and Danny.”

 

Jack snorted.  “ _If you were anyone else, Danny would verbally kill you for that._ ”

 

“True, very true – except for on thing.  He gets to call me…” she trailed off, becoming aware of Tony’s interested look.  “Jack, I’m getting some very strange looks, so I’m going to have to call you back.”

 

“ _Do I need to involve Caldwell?_ ”

 

“That would make the situation worse.  I’m sitting in a car next to a very inventive, very intelligent Anthony Stark.”

 

“ _I’ll send Teal’c then_.”

 

“Thanks for the notice but I don’t think I’ll need that rescue.”

 

“ _Just let me know if that changes.  I’ll make sure I’m ready_.”

 

“Only if you promise to be careful,” she said.

 

“ _Aren’t I always_?”

 

“Do I really need to answer that?”

 

“ _I’ll be careful,_ ” he paused, “ _And use protection._ ”

 

“With or from him, Jack?”

 

For once, his reply was dead serious, “ _Both._ ”

 

“I doubt it’ll be necessary but thanks.”

 

“ _Two words – Playboy Stark_.  _He does anything that moves, is legal, and is bipedal,_ ” Jack dryly commented.  “ _I’ve got to go._ ”

 

“Bye, Jack – take care,” she said and hung up.

 

“That’s the way you swing?”

 

“What?” she asked then her mind caught onto the implications.  “Anthony Stark, that is an untruth as well as impossibility.  Jack O’Neill was a friend to my dad and became a father to me after I lost mine.  And Dr. Jackson is my mentor, the man who inspired me to further pursue a career in linguistics since there were very little job opportunities for one in the environmental sciences.”

 

She paused, “You know them?”

 

“I’ve heard of them both,” he corrected.  “Rhodey is in awe of General O’Neill and his skills.  When did you meet Dr. Jackson?  Word on the street is that the he is terribly reclusive.”  He settled more comfortably in his seat.

 

“Around,” she covered a yawn.  “Excuse me.  Do you know what I’ve been doing for the past few years?”

 

“You’ve done some research into the similarities and differences between the dialects of Mesoamerica and Latin America.  When you aren’t doing your research you’ve been doing a few magic shows, though very rarely in the states.”  Leaning forward, he poured himself a whiskey and offered her one.  He shrugged when she shook her head.  “Why is that?”

 

“The alcohol or the magic?”

 

“I know why no alcohol, but I don’t understand about the magic.  Americans pay good money for such shows,” he replied.  “You could be sitting pretty, living the high life, known world wide if you were performing here.”

 

“And I’d never know another day of peace,” she added.

 

“What?”

 

“Not all of us are like you, soaking up the adoration of the public as if it was sunlight to a plant.”

 

He scoffed.  “I’ve seen your work, read it to.  As a scholar, everything in you cries out for that attention.”

 

“Academically I want the renown.  But the magic,” she paused and restarted, “My magic is my soul.  Too many want to know the how, the why, they don’t want to sit back and enjoy.  To just be amazed by what they are experiencing.  I can’t work any other way.  If you want to figure out how I do it, that’s fine – just don’t ask me to tell you.  As a result of this stance, I have rarely been in much demand.”

 

“So, you wouldn’t mind performing for me?”

 

“Why would you want me to do that?” she asked puzzled.  “I would have thought you’d consider such things below your scientific notice.”

 

“I caught a show of yours once.  It was eye opening to say the least.”

 

Her head tilted in thought.  “I don’t recall any show I gave that deteriorated into a media circus.”

 

“I can do discrete.”

 

“You didn’t even do discrete when you were conceived.”

 

“That was hardly my fault,” he pointed out but conceded her point.  As a Stark, he’d always been in the eye of the media, though they’d become more invasive over the years.

 

“Stark, where exactly is your home?” she asked realizing that they had left the city.

 

“Malibu.”

 

“Florida?” Though they were driving west, they could be heading to a private air field.

 

“California,” he corrected.

 

“That’s about three hours away,” she said, looking almost horrified.

 

“So?”

 

“Stark, all of my stuff is in a hotel room in Vegas.  I have my wallet but not enough funds to pay for a ride back.  Don’t you think this virtual kidnapping is a bit…excessive?  Especially if all you want to do is talk?”

 

“One, call me Tony.  And do you honestly think I wouldn’t provide a way for you to get back safely?”

 

Luka had to think about it.  While she’d never really followed anything he did, she’d never read anything about him not taking care of his dates – for want of a more appropriate word.  “I suppose not,” she grudgingly admitted.

 

“Just enjoy the ride, Luka, and tell me what else you’ve been doing.”

 

“Why do you care?  I don’t think we particularly bonded or anything.”

 

Tony silently contemplated her question as he swirled his drink around.  She had a point.  Why _was_ he going to such lengths to talk to her?  Was it just because of her magic?  That he wanted to know how it worked?  True, he’d never seen anything like what she did – and he’d seen quite a few other performers over the years.  What Luka did defied all the laws of science that he knew.  Was that the only reason?  Or was it something he wasn’t yet ready to think about – the fact that she seemed to know his dad better than he did?  Than anyone else did and he wanted to know the man who helped to give him life.

 

“Boss?” Happy’s voice cut into his thoughts.  “We’ve got a tail.”

 

“Can you shake them?” he asked, not wanting to deal with this right now.

 

Happy almost accelerated though on an open road there really was no place to go when the car in front slowed down.  Almost immediately he realized that they were being boxed in.  “No, they’re trapping us.”

 

“O’Neill send that rescue team after all?”

 

“Too obvious – Jack’s black ops.”  There was an uncomfortable feeling settling down deep in the pit of her belly.  One of those warnings that she’d learned never to ignore.  “You wouldn’t happen to have off-road capabilities on this thing, would you?”  It wouldn’t have surprised her if he had.  Howard was always fond of modifying his cars in ways that an automobile just shouldn’t be messed with.

 

“Never got around to it,” he replied, making a mental note to do just that.  It was a good idea and something he should’ve thought about himself.  “Are we close to the air field?”

 

“About an hour, sir.”

 

“Stark, no matter what you see or hear, you keep going.”

 

“What?” he asked, bristling up at the order.

 

“You wanted a show,” she replied with a wink and disappeared, standing beside the road.  Her fingers moved in a complex pattern and a silvery mist formed before covering all three cars.

 

“Can you still see, Happy?”  While he could, he wondered if it was just him.  His mind noticed that while theirs was like a light mist, the other cars were covered in something that rather resembled sand.

 

“Yes…why are we driving alongside ourselves?” there was the faintest note of apprehension in his voice.

 

“Pull over,” he ordered.

 

Happy was more than eager to comply.  The car stopped and he rested his head against the wheel, shaking hands by his side.

 

Tony reached for the handle when one of the body guards in front turned around.  “That would not be wise, sir.  We don’t know how the other cars are affected,” there was a pause.  “And she could be in on it.”

 

Reluctantly, he sat back.  Had she planned this whole thing?  No, he may be pigheaded but even he knew true worry when he saw it.  Luka had not known what was going on anymore than he had.  And she had been really worried about it.  “I don’t think so,” he said, realizing that he had to say something because they weren’t leaving until she was back in the car.  Tony Stark may have been a lot of things but when he took someone under his wing for the night, he made sure that they were taken care of.

 

And he had gotten her into this mess.

 

After a few minutes, he got out of the car, ignoring his bodyguards.  Luka stood, sparks still dancing around her fingers as he walked casually over.  “Care for an encore?”

 

“Don’t you ever listen and do as ordered?”

 

“No,” he replied, eyes widening as she slid to the ground in a dead faint.  Dismissing the electricity still flowing around her – because he’d been shocked with more voltage than that when he was messing around in his lab – he knelt beside her, feeling the rapid pulse with a sense of relief.

 

“I’ll carry her to the car,” he was stiffly informed.  It was obvious that his reckless disregard for his body guard’s opinion would not be easily forgiven.

 

Tony could care less about the man’s disapproval.  As they walked back to the car, he wondered why there was still a silvery covering over the area.  As they drove along with Peter taking over for the still shaken Happy, he studied her resting form.  As this had been an impromptu thing, all of her belongings had been left behind.

 

No rings to twist that could manipulate electromagnetism, no sign of any other small object that could direct energy for one source to another, so how had she done it?  She didn’t even have a purse to conceal some kind of small projector to create anything.  He wished he had J.A.R.V.I.S. installed in the car.  At least then he’d be able to go over the footage, peel back the layers and analyze the data that his AI had collected.

 

This was going to be harder than he thought. And he couldn’t wait to start pulling her actions apart, seeking the answers he needed to make everything she did make sense.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the movie made it seem as though Tony didn't use body guards. But if he didn't, who were those two who held Christine back?


	6. Don't Get Obsessed?  Too Late

Pepper walked down the stairs and saw Tony hard at work on something. Knowing better than to question him about it, she cleared her throat and waited until his head bent, acknowledging her presence. Shifting the paperwork into a more comfortable grip, she mildly observed, “J.A.R.V.I.S. forgot to wake your guest up.”

“He didn’t forget, Peps, I told him not to.” He put down the tube and shifted some of the papers around, looking for a small light to use.

“That’s not like you, Mr. Stark,” she commented. Though she had noticed that unlike his other female guests, this one was only lacking her shoes. And that the room had lacked the typical signs of a normal night in for Tony. For a moment, she had been worried that he was unwell though such a thing was rare for the man. In fact, she couldn’t think of one time when he had been sick with something other than alcohol or drugs.

Finding it, he turned it on and picked up the tube. “It’s not that often that I find myself in the company of Luka Erskine.”

And that explained a lot to Pepper. She had wondered about the elusive Luka Erskine, having been with him when he’d seen her show. To say that she had been blown away was putting it mildly.

“ _Sir, your guest has awakened_.”

“Let her know she can use the shower, J.A.R.V.I.S.”

“ _Very good, sir_.”

Pepper made a note to cancel the quiet search for Luka and to contact James even as she took Tony to task for being late for his flight. Honestly, she sometimes felt more like his mother than his personal assistant. They exchanged some words before she gave him the paperwork to sign. Going upstairs, she knocked on the door and entered, seeing Luka reaching for her clothes. “I can have those cleaned for you, Ms. Erskine.”

“As much as I would appreciate clean clothes, I can’t walk around in a towel. Though I’m sure that Mr. Stark would enjoy that, sybarite that he seems to be,” she sardonically commented, her lips twitching with suppressed amusement. Walking out, “And I hardly wish to take advantage of your generosity though I am sure you are used to doing such tasks. Thank you for the offer, Ms. Potts.”

“Wear this,” Tony said, tossing a box on the bed. “It’s the least I can do after you, oh, I don’t know, saved my life.”

“It wasn’t just your life on the line, Mr. Stark,” she pointed out, aware of Pepper’s gasp. Obviously, Anthony hadn’t felt the need to tell her what happened and she wondered why that was.

Tony stepped closer, inhaling the scent of something he didn’t recognize as being one of the soaps in his bathroom. It smelled vaguely of a snowy day. His eyes tracked a drop of water that trailed down her cheek and throat, disappearing into the towel. Half tempted to follow that path despite his words earlier and Pepper’s presence. “You could’ve left us, Luka. Take the clothes as thanks. I had to guess your size.”

She hid her arms behind her, hoping he’d think it was nonchalant even as she amusedly wondered if the huskier sound in his voice had something to do with her looks. Though she was not unaware of her physical attributes, she’d rarely had anyone react to her the way Anthony was. It had been a conscious decision to retain as much of her more blended Vanir and Midgardian looks, even allowed some Jotun to creep in, than resume her natural appearance. While she missed looking more herself, she knew that she needed to blend in. As a result, it always surprised her when a man found her attractive.

She rather hoped he had enough sense to not pursue the matter. “I’m sure you are more than qualified to do so, Mr. Stark. After all, practice makes perfect.”

“ _Sir, Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes is on the phone. Shall I turn on the audio_?”

Straightening up with some effort, he replied, “That’s all right. Luka needs to get dressed and I’m sure she’d rather I was elsewhere.”

“Or I could go into one of the other rooms,” she pointed out. “This is your home.”

“And you’re my guest,” his tone of voice ended the conversation. Turning around, he walked away and then paused at the door, looking at her. “Is there anything you’d like for breakfast?”

“Cold cereal’s fine.”

“All right, we’ll go out. And yes, that’s a date.”

She waited until he was out of the room before asking, “Ms. Potts, how do you prevent yourself from killing him?”

“Job hunting sucks,” she replied with a straight face.

She laughed and bid the other woman a good morning. Opening the box, she was relieved to find a pair of black slacks and an unadorned t-shirt – and lacy undergarments. Flushing, she looked at them uneasily, having never been the type to buy such things. Did she look like she was the type who could carry off such indecent underwear? Swallowing hard, she realized that it probably wouldn’t occur to Anthony that she might not buy such garments.

Then again, had she truly just been of Midgard, she would probably have been buying these kinds of clothes all along – making her father squirm.

“Obviously I’m still too close to my memories of Asgard if I think wearing something so innocuous constitutes as scandalous,” she muttered upon closer examination, realizing that they were not as revealing as they first seemed.

After another moment of uncertainty, she finally shrugged. It had been thoughtful of him to provide for her. And really, they weren’t terrible. It might just be time for her to try something different, something a little more modern and feminine. She couldn’t forever live by Asgardian standards of dress.

Walking downstairs, she looked around. “Anthony?” she cleared her throat, correcting herself. She shouldn’t let herself be so informal with him. It would only lead to trouble, “Mr. Stark?”

“ _Sir is currently in his workshop. How may I be of assistance, Dr. Erskine_?”

“Jarvis?” she asked, looking around for him. When she’d heard his voice earlier, she hadn’t searched, thinking that he’d spoken from outside the closed door.

“ _After his manner though I am not him_ ,” the voice said.

“You’re the house,” she said, thinking she should feel more surprised than she did. “To a certain extent.” “So, how do I actually address you?”

“ _As J.A.R.V.I.S._ ”

“Like your namesake,” she mused. “All right, do you know where my shoes are? And could you direct me to the kitchen?”

“I told you we were going out,” Tony said, watching her for a moment as he wiped his hands dry. “Clothes fit?”

“As if you really had any doubt,” she snorted, rubbing her arms for a moment. They felt bare, exposed and she wondered if she could get away with making a shawl or something appear without him questioning it. It was, after all, a cool morning. “And I can make us something, Mr. Stark.”

“Where’s the fun in that? And it’s Tony.”

“You’ve never cooked with me,” she drawled.

For a moment, he stared at her. Not quite sure what to say to that before a mischievous smile crossed his face, “Are you saying that your cooking is good enough to seduce me?”

“Well, it is chemistry. The most basic and primal form of scientific communication of all,” she pointed out. “Its where you learn to bond diverse substances to make something new, combine elements, meld and fuse molecules, heat things until you get a chain reaction, create new forms, bring things to a boiling point, let them simmer and unite, or pull them apart, cause explosions. Is it not the connection between all sciences…are you all right, Mr. Stark?”

“Why aren’t we in bed?” he asked, almost positive that no one had ever tried to seduce him using just their mind before. Not that she had quite succeeded but her matter of fact speaking, the way her eyes lit up, and just the words…yeah, okay, she could do it.

“Because I want to eat – and you want to talk?” she phrased it almost as a question, one eyebrow uplifted in inquiry.

“We can do all that upstairs,” he pointed out.

“No, we can’t,” she replied. “You have an appointment with the American government. And I am no one’s excuse.”

“Was your grandmother this much of a pain to my dad?”

“Knowing her, probably more so,” she said, a slight laugh there. “Where are my shoes?”

“In the car,” he said as he walked up the stairs. “Give me a few minutes to clean up and we’ll go.” Nodding, she walked to the arcadia doors and stepped outside, breathing in the air. She wondered what was going on in space for only something going on with the Stargate would have Jack cancelling on her. She was well aware of how she looked and knew that he’d want to make sure she ate actual food. Sending off a quick message and conjuring up a cardigan, she exhaled again and pulled it on.

Now that she no longer felt quite so exposed, she relaxed and tilted her head in thought. Rubbing her arms before resting them against the railing, she wondered about the cars that had tried to trap them. Had they been after Anthony? Or had they been after her for some reason?

As far as she knew, no one knew how far her knowledge of the program extended. Her own understanding hardly scratched the surface for she had enough respect for both men that she didn’t use her abilities to pry. But she knew enough to be considered a mild security risk. The N.I.D. was now under control of the relatively new organization the I.O.A. Now that they worked with the SGC, they posed no **_real_** threat to the universe. But they could still be a threat to individuals. And she vaguely recalled hearing Colonel Carter tell Dr. Frasier about this new organization called The Trust – disaffected members of the N.I.D. who’d left when the I.O.A. was formed.

But that didn’t seem to fit because, again, she knew nothing of note.

Other than that, all she really had was a connection to the Stark family but even that was tenuous at best. Though Anthony seemed to be trying to make the ties between them firmer if his behavior was any indication. So, other than her knowledge of the Stargate and knowing the Starks, she had nothing of value to offer to anyone. Her research into the connection between languages was not that impressive. Sure, she had made quite a few startling statements but all scholars did that. Her environmental stance was one of save the planet but be practical about it. Nothing to set the world alight.

So, what was the real goal of last night’s adventure?

“Rather deep thoughts for such a beautiful day don’t you think?” Tony observed, coming to stand beside her. Pushing herself up, she let a smile cross her lips.

“I’ve found beautiful days are the best kind for such thoughts, Mr. Stark. On any other kind of day, they lead to depression and a whole carton of Häagen-Dazs.”

“Your thoughts tend towards that sort of thing?” he asked, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder. “And I don’t remember buying this.”

Releasing a sigh, she looked to the shoreline, watching the waves lap up the sand. “Not usually, but there are some thoughts that keep coming back to one no matter how hard you try to move past them. Such thoughts are not conducive to happy places,” she admitted. “And it’s a little chilly.”

Narrowing his eyes because there was something more to it than that – he had noticed her hiding her arms behind her after all – he decided to let it drop for the moment. “And the reason for such gloomy thoughts?”

“Just wondering if it was me they wanted,” she finally said, “Or you.”

“Luka, I’m sure they were reporters.”

“If you knew that, Ms. Potts would’ve been informed about what happened last night. What did you find out?”

Guiding her inside, he shook his head. “Nothing,” it galled him to admit that. “They were good. Real good and covered their tracks well – too well.”

“But you have some ideas,” she said, getting into the car. Her shoes were on the floor and she slid them on, grateful that they were sandals. Considering the condition of her socks, she really would’ve regretted having to put them on again. And as much as she could have conjured up another set, she tried not to use her magic on such small matters. No matter what, she didn’t want to come to the attention of anyone in the Nine Realms. It was bad enough that Thanos was still seeking her signature out though he wasn’t as intent as he once had been.

“I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t.”

“Care to share with the class?” she asked as they drove along.

Tony smiled, “If you use my first name.”

Looking at him, she shook her head. “You’d leave me wondering if I didn’t call you Anthony?”

“No, I’d leave you hanging if you didn’t call me Tony.”

“But that’s not your christened name, is it? That’s an affectionate nickname your close associates have given you. I am not one of them nor have I gotten into the habit of following what others are doing, so I won’t act as the press does. I guess I’ll have to wait until I hear from General O’Neill.”

“I’ll take Anthony if you let me know what he learns.”

“As it concerns you, I have no problem with that,” she paused, “Anthony.” They pulled up in front of a building and parked. As he got out, she looked at it with cautious curiosity – it seemed rather posh.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, noticing her hesitant expression as he opened her door.

“I hardly think we’re dressed for this restaurant.”

Laughing, he extended his hand. “I’m Tony Stark – whose going to refuse me service? Other than you?”

“I wasn’t aware that you considered sex a service,” she mused, accepting his hand and getting out. “I always thought it was a pleasure.”

“And there you go, twisting my words.”

She laughed, “After our conversation earlier, how could I resist? And then there’s your reputation,” she added, noticing the reporter taking their picture.

“My Achilles’ heel to you,” he said as they walked in.

“Well, it rather inhibits a female from just being a friend to you.” Tony shrugged, knowing she had a point.

“How long can I expect to be in the eye of the media because of this?” She felt it was a valid question – she had a job interview with a business rival. An interview that might have already been cancelled if last night’s reporter did a blurb. Or wouldn’t happen because Mr. Hammer would see it and decide to try to use her friendship with Anthony as a way of spying. And that she would not do.

“Depends on what I do next,” he shrugged off her concern.

She nodded as she studied the menu, the tinkle of china in the background as well as the hidden prices had her hiding a wince. Not to long ago, she was in a place that **_had_** no silverware. One meal here could probably feed an entire village and she felt guilty for sitting her, looking at the food hungrily. Of course, she’d also feel guilty eating at a cheap, fast food joint, so she shrugged off the feeling.

“Why?” he asked, realizing that there was more to her question to discomfort at the idea of her life becoming a media circus for a while.

Knowing better than to mention anything to do with his past with Meredith, she closed the menu. “You order, I don’t think I trust my eyes not to over whelm me.”

Tony nodded, doing so, and then looked at her, waiting for her to answer his question.

“Well, I don’t think you have ever been seen twice with any female who is not Ms. Potts. In a few days, I was to have an interview with Hammer Enterprises, a rival of yours. You must imagine how well this will go over with them. And I believe I can honestly say that the reporter from last night will not be silent if she sees my picture with you in the trash rags.”

“Not fond of tabloids are we?”

“They are one of the lowest forms of journalism in the world,” she agreed, sampling from the appetizer tray he’d ordered for them. “And I use that word reluctantly because they rarely print real news.”

“I would’ve thought they would’ve ranked as the lowest,” he observed.

“There are lower forms,” she succinctly replied. “As long as whatever it is sounds reasonable and has a few facts backing it up, it will be believed by some regardless of well-established or even proven facts.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“More like observation,” she said, though he was right. In her Asgardian lives, she’d experienced a whole lot of slander about herself. Some was true, others were not – but it was usually the most damaging ones that were believed. It was not something she could tell him though. She wasn’t sure of him any more than she had been of his dad, “Daniel’s really.”

“His pyramid theory?” he asked.“When he proposed the idea that they were older than believed.”

“Mmmhmmm, and some think he believes that means the Egyptians didn’t build them. But I wouldn’t have thought such things would interest you,” she said, tilting her head.

“It was more something a friend of mine was interested in. I just got interested after a few reads,” he neutrally said.

Knowing from his tone of voice that it was best to drop that particular line of discussion, “It happens. How do you think linguistics became my doctorate?”

“I had wondered.”

“I’m sure,” she dryly commented. “His reputation has suffered in the academic world because of what he said about the pyramids ages. But the truth is he had never said that anyone else was responsible for them. Daniel **_knows_** that the Egyptians built them. The evidence says they did. All he was saying was that there is definite evidence saying that they are older than what has been established.

“Meaning that there might have been visitors from other worlds here. Or that the knowledge to create such wonders was in existence earlier than believed. That we’ve probably experienced more than one Dark Age when knowledge was lost, misunderstood, or deliberately destroyed. We are going through another rebirth of mankind, regaining and rediscovering what we lost. It just,” she paused to take a drink and calm herself down. She could feel the vibrations of her magic thrumming under her skin, wanting to be released and she knew that she could not give in to that temptation.

But oh how she wanted to. “He’s done so much more work, found evidence to support his cross-cultural belief and he can’t publish any of it. One report given when he was young that had the academic community laughing and nothing he says will be believed without even greater proof. And even then he’d be mocked. Its frustrating that…” she trailed off, realizing that she was treading a line that even she didn’t want to cross.

“That?” Tony encouraged, wondering at her suddenly closed off expression.

“Nothing,” she said, knowing it for the lame denial that it was.

“Oh, come on – you can’t leave me hanging like that. It’s hardly fair.”

“You haven’t given me any of your theories regarding last night’s adventure, Anthony. Nor have you tried to explain how you think I did what I did. How is that fair?” she shot back.

“Like I said, I need an encore to draw up any kind of theory. As for the other, I think they were after you. And I am sure that it has something to do with what you know about what happened to Dr. Jackson after his dissertation.”

“You don’t think they could be after you?”

“I’ve been threatened before,” he carelessly waved it off before becoming serious. “Threats don’t come from nowhere. Whoever these guys were, did. In my experience, that requires something unusual or of more worth than my admittedly awesome self. Your magic alone puts you there.”

“But you don’t think it’s the magic.”

“I don’t.” She studied him curiously. “I’ll make you a deal, Stark. You figure out one – just one – of my illusions and I’ll answer any of your questions.”

“You don’t think I can do it.”

Pursing her lips, she tilted her head. “In all the years I’ve challenged people to figure it out, not even those who are in my sphere have cracked my secrets. Not even Dr. Strange,” a fact she knew irritated him to no end. He had come close but he lacked one key piece of information. Rising to her feet, she leaned over and whispered, “I look forward to you proving me wrong. And that’s my ride, thank you for sanctuary, the clothes, and the meal. I’ll be sure to return the favor to you sometime.” She kissed his cheek before walking out.

A smile quirked his lips as he watched her move towards an unremarkable sedan. There was a man waiting for her and he accepted her hug, looking over at him with a suspicious look on his dark face. Behind his glasses, Tony’s eyes narrowed, studying the strange tattoo on the man’s forehead. He’d almost swear it was pure gold but he knew of no tattoo artists who worked with gold. Who could even afford it.

It looked like an Egyptian hieroglyph but not as he’d seen hieroglyphics written before. The image stayed with him as he drove to his jet, shrugging when he saw Rhodey. “What? I couldn’t lose the one shot I had with Luka before she disappeared on me again.”

“Tony, you promised to not keep me waiting. But I’m more concerned about the fact that two mysterious cars were chasing you last night and you didn’t call to let me know you were all right.”

Tony shrugged and entered, pouring himself a drink before sitting down. “How’d you find out? It didn’t make the news. I know, I had J.A.R.V.I.S. monitoring all the channels. There was nothing.”

“Happy told me what happened – the poor man was not sounding his best. So you tell me, what’s going on? Was his account correct?”

“Luka saved us. But I haven’t figured out how.”

“What do you mean?” Rhodey didn’t like the look on Tony’s face. It was one that presaged his disappearing into the lab for days on end, never coming out to eat, bathe, or sleep until he was done with whatever it was he was working on. He worried about it but could do nothing. Though he was a friend and confidant, he no longer had constant access to him. He would have to trust Pepper to make sure Tony didn’t lose himself.

He debated for a moment before shrugging. It wasn’t like Luka had said he couldn’t tell anyone what happened. And he trusted Rhodey. Taking a breath, he told him everything – including the challenge. “I don’t know, Rhodey. What she did was like nothing I’ve ever seen before. I mean, I know there’s chaos science and chaos theory but that was magic. I know there’s some kind of science behind it. There has to be, I just don’t know what it is.”

“Tony,” Rhodey began.

“Don’t get obsessed?” he guessed. Tipping the glass in his direction, he saluted him, “Too late.”

 

* * *

 

 

The next day she was shown into an office, smiling tensely at Jack and Daniel. Their expressions only slightly warmed up upon seeing her. As such, she prepared herself for the worst. “What did you find out?” she asked. “N.I.D.? The Trust? Or someone else?”

“Someone else,” Jack grimly said. “Luka, who else knows who you are?”

“I know of no one but you two – unless you count Captain America but he’s frozen. So, he’s hardly in a position to spill any secrets about me. Howard wouldn’t tell – it would put everything he’s ever done at risk. Even when we were on the outs, he would’ve kept quiet. They were after me, weren’t they.”

Daniel sat beside her and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry. But I have to ask you, how well do you know Tony Stark?”

“I don’t know him well at all. But to think that he is guilty of this, I don’t believe it. Now, Obadiah Stane,” she quietly said. “Him I can see trying something like this because I…my…I suspected him of not being totally on Howard’s side. That’s what caused the split. I warned him about Stane.” “And he didn’t listen to you? Even knowing who you were?”

“Not until later,” she told them.

“What does your gut say?”

She contemplated the question, giving it the weight of thought it deserved. “I was with Anthony. If Mr. Stane was going to do something, he wouldn’t have done it then. Yes, I believe that the man’s a danger – I’m still not convinced that Howard and Maria died in a true accident. Howard wasn’t careless with his cars. But taking out Anthony in a place in which there would be intense investigation?”

Here she shook her head. “He’d wait until the man was out of the country, someplace where an investigation would be difficult. Here, he’s relatively safe. But in the war zone he’d be at the mercy of the terrorists, something going wrong with a weapons demonstration, even driving through the desert could make Anthony vanish. Terrorists need no real motive. Of course, if he paid them to help, he’d have to keep quiet about who their target was.”

“Why?” Daniel asked.

“Because Tony makes weapons no one else thinks about – he’d be too valuable to kill,” Jack supplied.

She gasped, hands flying to her chest.

“Luka?” Daniel asked, concerned.

“When was the Stark presentation?” she asked, trying to suck in air around the pain.

“Two hours ago,” Jack grimly said, moving to the phone. “I thought I told you to be careful.”

“Jack!” Daniel snapped.

“It’s ok, Daniel – he’s right. Even a kiss on the cheek was a risk under the circumstances,” she sighed.

“That’s all?” Jack’s question was suspicious.

“That’s all and it’s enough to know that he’s alive,” she replied. “But not to tell us where he is. The connection, as far as I can tell, only goes one way.”

“How much of what he experiences will you feel?”

“Only the extremes,” she said. “He has some injury to his heart, though I’m not sure what kind. Mine feels a little pinched, torn – almost as if something is inside the aorta and cutting its way through.”

Janet arrived, her hand automatically reaching for Luka’s wrist. “I’ve heard of something like that happening if shrapnel enters the body. It’s a most unpleasant way to die.” After a moment, she nodded, “Onto the gurney.”

“But I’m fine.”

“Show me your medical degree,” Janet ordered.

“What?”

“You heart rate is elevated, color is shocky, and your breathing is raspy. If you believe that these are the symptoms of one who is fine then you need to show me your medical degree. Otherwise you will get on the gurney.”

Luka looked over at Jack and Daniel. Both men were finding other areas of the room fascinating. “All right,” she gave in with bad grace.

Once they had left, Daniel looked at him. “What are we going to do?”

“There’s nothing we can do,” he replied. His troubled eyes met Daniel’s, “And honestly, I’m more worried about Luka than Stark.”

“Why?” Daniel asked. “You heard what she said, nothing happened.”

“Daniel, I’ve only ever seen that look on her face once before – when Howard Stark died. Now, he was an apprentice of sorts to her. I think Tony’s fully accepted her challenge and she started the student/teacher bond unknowingly.”

Blue eyes widened as that sank in. “So if something happens to Tony…we could be dealing with a very pissed off goddess of chaos bent on revenge.”

“Vengeance,” Jack corrected. “And we can’t afford that right now.”

 


	7. I don't think you realize how deep and entangled this can get

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anthony is back from Afghanistan and Luka has to deal with fall-out of her challenge to him, mainly explaining it to him.

________________________________________

“Loge,” a gravely voice pushed its way into her hazy, slowly awakening mind.

Her eyes snapped open and she panicked for a moment, trying to figure out where she was and how she got there. Trying to regain control of herself, she remembered fierce pain and Janet’s exasperation with her stubbornness. She remembered more pain shooting through her and then, nothing else. Janet must have had her put into this room after healing her from whatever had gone wrong.

Taking a few deep breaths, she closed her eyes and looked around again, seeing another patient in the room with her. A man with long, dark hair bound in dreadlocks had pushed himself up onto his elbows, his focus solely on her. His look wasn’t threatening but there was something about him that was pure danger.

It was also clear that he wasn’t from this area of the Nine Realms.

“Ah, what did the doc say about talking and moving, Ronon?” John leaned forward, eyes studying her even as he spoke to the other man. It was there, hidden within her eyes, something that couldn’t quite be defined with mere words. But something was definitely wrong and he knew they needed to talk – soon.

There was only one other time he’d felt that off vibe about her and he didn’t like what it presaged. His hand went to the man’s shoulder and gently – but firmly – pushed him down.

Ronon subsided, recognizing the order there. The warning in his voice, though he could not understand why it would be there. Obviously, John knew who she really was, why shouldn’t he call her by name? She was arrogant and proud of who and what she was, flaying those who even slightly offended her. And yet, he knew that there had to be some reason for this secrecy, though he couldn’t help but wonder why he was not allowed to press the matter.

Loge was not a name unknown to those of Sateda. One always hoped that prayers would be answered by the man for he was always more generous than when he took on his female body. As a woman, the Trickster was far more mercurial and devious. She had harsher edges, more like an enraged mother bear than a mother of the green, growing things. One never was quite sure if she would kiss them, kill them, heal them, or ignore them just because she could.

“She is not my doctor,” he growled out, feeling the fingers dig into his shoulder sharply at his words. Or may be it was a warning. Jennifer had often gotten upset with him for ignoring others in her profession, telling him that while she appreciated his confidence in her, as his significant other she could not tend to his wounds. This he didn’t understand for Melena had been a healer and as close to being a wife to him as she could be without the legal ties binding them together.

“While you are on Earth and in this facility, I am. Don’t make me explain this to you again.” Janet snapped as she entered the room. Walking over to his bed, she stared down at him. There were only a few people who could make Ronon feel cowed. He was vexed to find that this tiny woman was one of them.

Once assured that he would cause no trouble, she turned around and felt Luka’s wrist. Frowning at the rapid pulse, she asked, “You okay?” Letting go, she pulled out a penlight and checked both of her eyes. Nothing seemed amiss. Still, if anything more had happened to her or to Stark, they needed to know.

Or rather the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division people did.

Agent Barton had already been in there earlier on Director Fury’s request. They had recognized her from the photos run in both the papers and on the Internet and put her down as a person of interest. It was only because of her connection to Jack that they didn’t fully suspect her of having anything to do with Stark’s disappearance. But she was aware that they would want to talk to her about what she knew.

“Yes, I am.” At her disbelieving look, she gestured towards her roommate. “Mr. Ronon, I believe is what Colonel Sheppard called him, just startled me. Why am I here?”

“Other than you flat lining on the way over here? Proving that you were okay?” she sweetly asked, “Nothing.”

“Alright,” she heaved a breath. “I’m sorry for doubting you. Thank you for insisting I come in here.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Can I go?”

“Not for 24 hours.”

“What did you do?” John asked as he sat back, amused.

She glared over at John, “Don’t even go there, you glowing night stick. Or I’ll tell McKay about some of our more…colorful escapades.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t I?” she retorted and he knew full well that she would.

________________________________________

Tony stood in front of the press, giving them his new plan for the direction his company was to take. There was a comfortable feeling in the back of his mind, one he hadn’t felt so strongly in a while. Even as he continued to talk and started in on his dad, weakness beset him and he found himself sitting in front of the podium. As he rambled on, he saw Luka in the background. She gave him a small smile before walking towards the door.

He forced himself up, pushed himself to ignore the weakness hampering him. “Luka, please,” he called out, not caring about the stares of the press, Pepper calling after him, or Obie desperately trying to regain control of the situation. She was his sole focus and he went after her.

“Anthony, you should sit before you fall down,” she gently scolded him. Her arm went under his and around his shoulder, moving into a quieter area. A flick of her wrist cast an image of them, heading the other way. To make doubly sure of their safety, she cast another illusion and they were hidden from sight.

“Thanks.”

She smiled and brushed a lock of hair away from his eyes. “Why aren’t you in a hospital?’

“Didn’t want to be,” he replied, allowing her to help him sit down.

Moving towards a small fridge, she grabbed a water bottle and held it out to him. “I guess that’s as good a reason as any.”

“Not going to lecture me?” he asked, taking a drink.

“I believe that Ms. Potts, Mr. Stane, and J.A.R.V.I.S. will take care of that,” she dryly said. “I can think of no good that will come should I do so.”

“How much of a fool did I make of myself?”

“You expect me to notice?”

A true smile crossed his lips though it was slightly weary, “Luka.”

“Ah, now that’s the smile from you that we’ve all missed,” she softly said. “And you’ve done worse things, most will write this off as PTSD. You would’ve been better off if you’d gotten some sleep before you made any announcements.”

“That would’ve been boring.”

“Anthony, such an accusation could never be laid at your door. Not to mention it would’ve been more practical than anything else.”

“You know, I never really noticed how Shakespearean you sound.”

“Should I apologize for that?”

“I felt you, in the caves before I upgraded.”

The statement came out of nowhere. “What?” she asked, blinking at him.

“Luka, we need to talk. Really talk. Would you please meet me tonight at my home?”

“Anthony, I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” he bitterly asked.

Resting her hand on his shoulder, she squeezed it gently, “Can’t. I’m working tonight and won’t be off until nine in the morning. Some of us do have scheduled hours to work. But I can come by tomorrow after seven, which should give the both of us enough time to rest.”

“I’ll take it.”

________________________________________

As Happy pulled up at the house, her eyes widened then closed in dismay. The place was crawling with the press. The flashing lights and the sounds coming her way even through the protective glass assaulted her senses. Shrinking back into the seat, she was grateful for the ride. “Has it been like this all day?”

“Since he was brought back to the states, Dr. Erskine,” he explained. Though he was rather nervous to be alone with her in the car considering his last experience, he remained friendly. It was one of the reasons he’d lasted so long in Tony’s employ – dour of expression but he was a genuinely affable man.

“Oh, dear. Thank you for braving them to pick me up, Mr. Hogan,” she said, knowing that he was uncertain of her and she couldn’t blame him. The only time they’d met had challenged everything he knew to be real. A smirk almost crossed her face, knowing that’s how she affected a lot of people. The Starks, Jack, and Daniel Jackson being the only exceptions to that rule. “I’d hate to brave them alone.”

Tony was waiting for them in the garage and opened her door. “I was half-expecting you to ditch me.”

“I almost did when I realized how interested in me the press was,” she replied following him inside. And that had created a situation at work. Jack spending his time glaring at her for gaining the attention of the press while the rest had been everyone else asking about her relationship with Anthony. Taking off her jacket, she hung it up and removed her shoes. She had a feeling that she wasn’t going to need them and wanted to know where they would be. “Evening, J.A.R.V.I.S.”

“Good evening, Dr. Erskine. It is nice to have you here again.”

“Yeah, not going to apologize for that.”

“Thank you, J.A.R.V.I.S. And why would I expect you to apologize for the behavior of others? While you are famous, you are not a dictator, bent on robbing others of their free will.” They moved through the house and up the stairs. “Anthony, where are we going?”

“Somewhere comfortable.”

“And we couldn’t be comfortable in your living room?” she asked.

“Not enough warning should anyone come to call,” he said.

“Well, I guess not even Ms. Potts would be bold enough to disturb you when you’re entertaining in your bedroom.” Looking around for a chair, she conceded defeat. Reluctantly, she sat on his bed. “You couldn’t provide a chair?”

Handing her a glass of water, he sat down and leaned against the headboard. “No, I need to understand what is going on here, Luka. For that to be possible the distance between us must be minimal. Why did I feel you in the cave?”

Letting out a sigh, she took a sip of water before setting it down. Drawing her legs up, she shifted so that they were face to face. “Before you left, I issued you a challenge – one you accepted. This is not the first time I’ve done such a thing. But this time, the challenge was different from the others,” she paused, thinking over her next words. “This time, I expressed the belief that you could accomplish this task. In the olden days, this challenge was given when a teacher found someone worthy to pass their knowledge onto. A task was laid down and if it was accepted, a student/teacher bond was formed. Because of my stupidity, I initiated such a link with you.”

Tony shook his head bemused. “So you’re staying that I’ve become your student and that’s what happened? Why couldn’t you find me then? Shouldn’t you have been able to? Or wasn’t I a priority?” that last was bitterly spoken.

“Under the circumstances, no. I knew that I could feel you and certain things that happened to you. But until you told me that you could feel me, I did not know that the connection went both ways. Believe me, had I known that it was a reciprocal bond, nothing would have prevented me from finding you.”

“Wait,” he interrupted, the implications of her words hitting him. “You felt this? And everything that happened afterwards?” Not only were his eyes wide with horror but his hand was rubbing against his chest. She was sure he was unaware of his actions. It wasn’t like him to be so open with his vulnerabilities to anyone who wasn’t Rhodey or Pepper.

“It was not fun, I’ll grant you that. And what I felt were only echoes of your pain, not real pain,” she told him. Crawling up to his side when she realized that her words hadn’t helped, she half-embraced him. “Hey, I’m okay. You’re fine. We’ll deal.” She didn’t say she understood what he went through or use any kind of words of comfort, knowing that that wasn’t what he needed to hear nor would he accept them.

He rested against her for a moment before moving to make this a full embrace. “You said under the circumstance, what was the other reason?”

She nodded, trying to move back. His hold tightened and she shifted, trying to find a more comfortable resting. “Your biology changed. Usually the metal from weapons do not alter a person that much but whatever was done to keep you alive added elements to your DNA that are not normally or consistently found in the human body. As a result, you were blocked from my searching. At most, I could only tell that you were alive and about as healthy as one in captivity could be.”

“J.A.R.V.I.S., dim the lights to seventy-eight percent,” he ordered. Taking her hand, he ignored the way she’d completely stiffened. The blue light underneath his shirt became more apparent and he placed their hands on the arc reactor. Holding it there when she twitched, he waited for her to relax. “Would this be why?” he asked more for her sake than his own.

He knew it was. When he’d exchanged the car battery for the reactor, he hadn’t felt her presence as strongly. It had been more like the thrum of a still healing wound, not a continuous warmth in his mind.

For a moment, she only felt his hand pressing hers down upon an object. Forcing herself to relax even more, she could feel the energy and something else flowing from it. “That would be it,” she agreed. Though curious, she didn’t ask about it.

“What is it?” he supplied the question, “An arc reactor.”

She made a surprised sound, “What powers it – if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Palladium,” he replied. “Is there a way to break the bond?”

“Two ways, you can refuse to finish the task.”

“Not happening,” he flatly stated.

A wry grin crossed her face, “didn’t think you’d go for that idea even though it is the best decision for us. The second option is that we let it die by not doing anything or being around each other. If there is no contact between us in any form, the bond will wither and die.”

“What’s option three?”

“There is no option three,” she said.

“That would be there’s no rule six,” he said. “And it comes after two.”

“Not this time,” she denied.

“Three, you rip it out.”

“Doesn’t work that way once there’s been shared pain,” she told him, adding thoughtfully. “Or pleasure for that matter.”

“You’re a voyeur, who knew?”

She flushed. But whether in embarrassment or anger, she wasn’t quite sure. His time in captivity hadn’t changed his bluntness any but her ability to handle it was changing. The bond accounted for some of it. She just hoped that she could stem the rest of the reason. She was not going to be just another name to him. “Is everything sexual to you?”

“Pretty much,” he shrugged.

“Ignoring that,” she primly informed him. “Anthony, I can block such things especially now that I know it goes both ways.”

“Why didn’t you before?”

“Because I wanted to help as much as I could,” her reply was soft. “I feel responsible for what happened.”

“You don’t think it was random.”

“Coming so quickly on the heels of the mysterious cars? No,” she said. “And you don’t either.”

He couldn’t deny her words because she was right. Even though it seemed random, he knew the military would not have stopped the convoy he was in unless the car could no longer move. Yes, they were being attacked – but there had been plenty of road around them. They should’ve called for back-up and kept going.

“Anthony, it would take about one year for the bond to die. Then I would be more careful in how I worded my challenge to you.”

“Luka,” he paused, squeezing her hand. “I’ve grown accustomed to your presence in my mind and don’t want to lose it. So we have to deal.”

“Anthony, I don’t think you realize just how deep and entangled this can get.”

“Don’t care, Luka.”

“I know – that’s why I have to.”

“Sir, Mr. Stane wishes to speak to you.”

“Tell him I’ll see him in the morning.”

“This is more important than your latest conquest,” Obadiah said from the doorway.

A shout of laughter escaped him. “This is the second time I’ve had her in here – and this is the closest we’ve gotten to what you’re implying, Obie.”

“Then perhaps introductions are in order.”

“Obie, this is Luka Erskine.” He did not fail to notice the way the other man’s face had closed itself off. Nor the way he stiffened as he stared at them. It was so out of character, he made a note of it. “Luka, this is Obadiah Stane.”

“Pleasure,” though there was the slightest sound of ice in her voice. “Anthony, why don’t I go with Mr. Hogan and get us something to eat? Chinese?”

“Happy has the rest of the night off,” he replied.

“J.A.R.V.I.S? Is there food in the kitchen?”

“There is though sir prefers to act as though that particular room does not exist.”

Untangling herself, she rose. “Thank you. I’ll leave you two to talk.” She left, skirting around Stane as she did so. The man still had that indefinable essence about him that she did not like – especially since she could not read what it meant. “Does Anthony have any allergies I should be aware of?”

“Sir has none. He will eat the majority of the food placed before him though he has a preference for what is called comfort food.”

“Tonight certainly calls for that,” she mumbled, head in the fridge. As she emerged with a few ingredients she thought it a good thing that she worked with Jack and not Justin Hammer. After the incident with the cars, he’d decided to tell the Joint Chiefs of Staff to screw their complaints, he was hiring her to work with him. She could not only help them go green, but she was excellent with diplomacy and skilled in several different languages.

She wondered if Anthony knew that the arc reactor would start an energy revolution if handled right.

As she pulled the muffins from the oven, Tony entered the kitchen. “Macaroni and cheese is just about done,” she told him. Sliding past him, she opened the fridge and pulled out the fruit salad.

“What’s going on between you and Stane?” He leaned back against the counter, watching her.

“As far as Mr. Stane and I are personally concerned, nothing,” she looked over at him, trying to read his reaction and found herself unable to. “But my father said a few things to yours about him that cause the rift in their friendship. I have never been privy to the details from his lips, so I do not know what words were spoken. Whatever it was, Mr. Stane may believe that I know and will tell you.”

“Your dad wasn’t in the same field as Stane,” he flatly said.

“No,” she agreed, moving towards the table with the food. “But he did think of himself as Howard’s friend. It might be possible that he overheard something, misunderstood it, and told your dad.”

Hands landed on her shoulders once her hands were empty, turning her to face him. “Or perhaps you know what is really going on. Don’t lie, Luka. What do you know about my dad and Obadiah Stane.”

“Anthony,” she sighed, admitting that he needed to know this. “My dad told Howard that Mr. Stane was trying to take over his company and stealing from it.”

“And my dad kicked your dad out of his life because he didn’t want to hear anything bad about a friend,” he stated.

“Exactly, and then the Vanko incident happened shortly afterwards. So that whole thing was never looked into.”

“Vanko?”

“You really don’t know your family history,” she said, closing her eyes. She wanted to tell him more, to give him what he needed to understand just what he was getting himself into, but it wasn’t her place – even if a part of her acknowledged him as a student. “Get in touch with S.H.I.E.L.D. – though they have not abbreviated their organization’s name, I’m taking a page from General O’Neill’s book and doing it for them. I’m sure they’ve spoken to Ms. Potts regarding your escape. Let go.”

Tony stepped back slowly, watching her disappear into the kitchen. She reemerged with the rest of dinner and sat down. He did the same and they ate in silence before he casually observed. “You think Stane put a hit on me. And you think he’s directly responsible for my parents’ death.”

Her fork clattered to the plate. Wide eyed, she stared at him, unable to say anything. He hated that confirmation even as he faced it. “What do I do?”

“I can’t tell you that, Anthony.”

“What would you do?”

“Find evidence of any wrong doing,” she said. “You need to be sure that he really is responsible before going after him. This can’t be about revenge or you’ll become like him.”

“You don’t suck at this advice thing. Had experience?” he asked.

“Mayhap in a past life I was an advisor to kings,” she almost flippantly replied.

The only sign he gave was the raising of an eyebrow and a snort.

________________________________________

“Iron Man?” Jack scoffed and tossed the paper down on the table.

“I know,” Luka agreed. “But red gold titanium alloy man is such a mouthful.”

Jack half-smiled. “Is he going to be trouble for us?”

At that, she could only shrug. “I think we’d best leave him to Director Fury. Contrary to what many in the government believe, I don’t think he’s a threat.”

“What about you?”

“Anthony has been far more vested in his heroic exploits lately to bother with me. If he does remember me, I shall continue to do my best to meet his needs. And the needs of my boss though it will not be easy without resorting to certain measures I’d rather avoid.” They both knew what she was referring to.

And Jack could hardly blame her. Tensions between the Tok’ra and them had been high lately because they found out the truth about John Sheppard. They thought that they had been misled about his nature, when in truth those in the SGC had just recently found out about him. Well, Luka had always known but that’s because the two of them used to hang out together but she didn’t count. If they found out that they were harboring another alien, they might just lose them. Of course, Jack was beginning to doubt that their alliance was really doing them any good. With the sole exception of Jacob, none of the Tok’ra impressed him.

Daniel walked in, folder in hand. “Hey Jack, Luka.”

“Hey,” she smiled. “What’s going on in your vast corner of the world?”

“Could you fill these out for me? Normally I wouldn’t ask but I need to talk to Jack about something.”

Pushing off the wall she’d been leaning against, she accepted the folder. “No problem, Daniel.” Shutting the door, she sat down and began to do the write-up, frowning when she realized that the forms were specialty insurance forms. Seems his insurance company finally decided to give him the Black Ops policy. It was about time. They should’ve done this after he came back from the dead the second time. It would’ve spared all of them the hassle, grief, and arguments over fraud.

For a moment she spared a thought for Anthony before shaking it off. If this Iron Man thing kept him busy, she wouldn’t have to shield herself for much longer. Inside a voice laughed, knowing that such a thing was impossible. Whether she wanted to admit to it, she and Stark were connected. And sooner or later that connection would demand completion.

________________________________________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gained permission to use the idea of John as an Orii named Ashtaroth from the author, Orithian, who came up the idea originally.
> 
> Loge is one of the names Loki was known by.


	8. He shouldn't be alive

________________________________________

Shortly after she’d witnessed the brouhaha of Monte Carlo, Luka sat on her roof, staring skyward. Her skin bristled with something she couldn’t explain. But as surely as she knew the Earth would continue to rotate around the sun, bringing them light and life, she knew that something was happening in Asgard – something bad. While prescience had never been and would never been a gift of hers, she did know something about accessing the paths of the future.

Drawing deep within herself, she cast her soul out to walk the limbs of Yggdrasil. Looking around, she could feel the changes in the air. Moving into the palace, her eyes widened as she realized what was going on. Thor’s coronation was occurring though whether it was temporary so that there was one on the throne during the Odinsleep or a permanent crowning, she could not say.

As she looked around, she felt a twinge as she recognized many in the Court and saw the changes in them. Then she froze for she could see the look Loki – the golem – was giving the golden prince. Chills ran down her spine as she realized something else – he was different. Somehow, the golem had changed, had grown. To her knowledge, such a thing was impossible for they could never outgrow their maker’s intent. Pulling into herself for a moment, she breathed deeply and then focused on the energy surrounding him. There was a new vigor about him, similar in feel to the Tesseract.

But the Tesseract was hidden, deep within S.H.I.E.L.D.’s headquarters and none had ever used it enough to bond with it.

None, except…

 _Sneering red, skeletal face, more demon than man, laughing at her pain, her tears_ …She stumbled back into herself, “Please, no.” _Hands, fists, bruising lips, that voice hissing in her ear, shattering, tearing her down, and that face…always that face she couldn’t easily escape, not even when she was awake_.

“No, what?” Tony asked from behind her. “And what were you doing?” He was casually leaning against the wall, the Iron Man suit gleaming in the light.

“I do not have time for you now,” she snapped, forcing back her fear. Opening the door, she had her phone in hand, dialing a number. “Jack? We have trouble – big trouble.”

There was the faintest sound in the background – Sara’s voice on another phone. “ _Paul’s on his way to get you_ ,” Jack sounded fully awake, even though she knew that he had gotten less sleep than she had.

“It’d be quicker my way,” she replied, already half out of her pajama top.

“ _Read-outs show that Stark’s there,_ ” he said darkly.

She flung it onto the chair, pants quickly joining it as she rummaged through her closet. “Jack, he already knows I can do hard to explain things.”

“ _Loki_ ,” he warned. “ _This is not negotiable_.”

She swallowed back the panic, recognizing the order in his voice as he used the name he never did unless he wanted to make a point, “Yes, sir. I’ll be waiting for Major Davis.”

“ _There, that wasn’t so hard, was it_?” Jack asked.

Exchanging a few more words, she hung up. It took only a few more minutes to finish getting ready. During all of this, she ignored Anthony’s presence. Part of her hoped that he’d leave but the rest knew that he wouldn’t. She’d twigged his curiosity meter to much.

“I’m going to ask this once, Luka, what is going on?”

“I do not have time for your drama, Stark,” she snapped.

“And I don’t have time for your panty twisting denial,” he shot back, stumbling. His eyes lost focus and color dropped from his face. “Whoa,” his voice was faint as his legs gave out from underneath him.

The fever inside him almost burned her as she held him up and she gasped. “How are you still moving?”

“Will power,” he bit out through clenched teeth.

“Bed,” she ordered, helping him over. “I’m calling Dr. Frasier – don’t worry, she’s very discrete.”

“That’s not what I worry about,” he said and released a sigh of relief before willing his suit off.

“And knows to disavow any knowledge of you,” she added, watching in fascination. “Janet doesn’t take anything from anyone. There are times she scares me.”

The suit put itself away. “Luka, this is the third time we’ve found ourselves here. Are we ever going to use the bedroom for what it’s for?”

A reluctant smile quirked her lips at this sign that he was fine. “Anthony, I use the bed for sleeping.”

“Then you have stopped living, Luka.”

Luckily Janet picked up because she honestly didn’t know how to respond. Explaining the situation while her mind was elsewhere was a talent she’d thankfully developed because she could hardly tell him that it had been over seventy years since she’d been truly intimate with anyone. Since she’d truly desired that intimacy with another not only because of fear but she’d never found another she could fully trust. And while the ache of losing Abraham had lessened with time, she was not ready to try for a relationship again. Greta had needed that foundation to finish her healing.

As Jacob, she hadn’t been interested until meeting Audun. Drunk though he was, there was something about her that had reminded him of Angrboda. They had gotten together for no other reason than that they could. At one point, he’d decided that she would be the perfect vessel to bear his child. She had not minded how clinical and detached the idea had sounded for she needed something from him and a bargain was made.

Now that she was whole, reborn fully, Luka didn’t know how to feel about interpersonal relationships. For the longest time, she’d thought she’d been reborn as an asexual for she’d never really been interested in dating males or females. She’d never been drawn to anybody and yet, she was drawn to Anthony. Perhaps she was demisexual for she…had grown to care about him. And the more time she spent around him, the more she felt his presence in her mind, the more she wanted to experience the legendary playboy’s touch. It was a thought that did not rest well with her.

Hearing Janet say she’d drop by, Luka relaxed. Of all the people in the medical field, Janet was the one she trusted the most. “Do you still have my key?”

“ _I have everyone’s keys, honey, especially the ones who keep dying in the field_.”

“That was only an accidental once,” she replied. “I’m not Daniel.”

“ _No one is_.”

“Which is probably a good thing,” she dryly commented. “I really appreciate this, Janet.”

“ _Just remember that when it’s time for your physical._ ”

“You know that’s never going to happen.”

“ _Oh, I don’t know, stranger things have happened_.”

“Major Davis is here,” she said, hearing the knock. Placing her phone in her pocket, she checked on Anthony. His breathing was even though his color was still faint. With a sigh, she ran a finger down his cheek. What was she going to do with him? The weakened bond was singing again. Walking to the door, she put on a jacket. Opening the door, she nodded. “Major, are you **_ever_** going to get promoted?”

“I’m happy were I am, ma’am.” He waited for her to lock her door before they went to the car.

“That’s not what I asked,” she said. “And since when does the military care about personal happiness where talent is concerned?”

“Since I’m one of the few in the armed services that the General actually listens to and tolerates,” he said, eyeing her out of the corner of his eye.

She laughed but there was a slight desperation to it. “He **_is_** a bit of a walking legend, isn’t he?”

“Depends on who you ask,” Paul quipped.

“Don’t let him hear you say that.” Her laugh this time was freer.

“I may love my job but I’m not crazy.” They exchanged knowing looks, knowing what everyone thought of them and those in the SGC. “How bad is this?”

“Paul, I don’t panic easily.” It was all she could say until she talked to Jack. They moved quickly though the check-points and she was relieved. She made her way to Jack’s office, nodding at Daniel and Jacob Carter, wondering why the Tok’ra was there. “Is this a bad time?” she asked, hovering in the doorway.

“It is my belief that anything that has caused you concern is of interest to the entire universe,” Selmak intoned.

Luka mentally rolled her eyes. It never failed to annoy her how the Tok’ra and the Goa’uld never said anything. They intoned everything. “Jack?” she asked, wanting to hear what he had to say. At his look, “I’m not calling you General. I’m not an enlisted minion.”

“Told you,” Daniel smirked.

“No respect,” Jack groused. “Now is it that I never get respect from you two? I sign your paychecks.”

“Since when are you the head of the military?” Jacob asked.

“Jacob, can it. I get enough sass from them.”

“But you’re well paid for it,” Daniel started then looked over at Luka. “Loki,” he softly called out.

Luka’s eyes had gone hazy as she stared out the window. There didn’t seem to be any movement to her, not even her breathing. The tips of her fingers were vaguely blue and the faint lines of her Jotun heritage glowed along the left side of her face.

“Jacob, not one word – ever. Or so help me ally or not – I will kill you and hide you body so well, no one will **_ever_** know what happened to you.”

The Tok’ra swallowed hard. This was not the man either knew as Jack O’Neill. They were looking straight into the eyes of a killer, one who even the Ashrak might hesitate to engage. It was telling that Daniel said nothing but his look said everything. And what it said was that Jack may leave something of him behind for Sam to mourn – but Daniel wouldn’t. Of the two, it had always been the younger man’s dark side people feared.

“You may count on our discretion forever, O’Neill.”

Jack let Daniel pull Luka into the room. Shutting the door, he pushed a button and a strange sound was emitted before nothing. “Loki,” Jack’s voice was soft, gentle, but still held an aura of authority that she responded to. “What do you see?”

Loki, Jacob mouthed catching the name this time but keeping silent. His mind swam, awash in confusion. This made no sense to him – or to his partner. What was one of the Asgardian gods doing on Earth? And the Trickster, what did her presence mean? While she had always been the one Odin relied on to get things done, she had also been one of the least trustworthy of the gods. Or so the legends told. Selmak had thought that Odin had banned their presence on pain of death unless he sent them here.

Such an edict had led to the break between Odin and his younger brother, Vili. The split had finally shattered what was left of the great alliance. Vili had left, taking his allies with him. But cut off from Idunn’s apples, they had lost their immortal status. They’d had to find another way to survive, to pass on their knowledge. Because they wanted to help, to continue to protect the universe from the threats they had either created or unleashed.

This was knowledge unknown to the Tua’ri though it wouldn’t surprise Selmak if Jack knew something of it. The man was a favorite of Thor’s, though the commander of the Asgard was not the son of Odin. He was not even a cloned descendent of the man wrongfully taken.

“Someone is attempting to steal the Casket of Ancient Winters,” she rubbed her eyes. “Frost Giants…they’ve awakened the Destroyer.”

“Who is the Destroyer?”

“The one who guards the Treasure Vault of Odin,” she said. “He is akin to the one who sees all and does not sleep.”

“Is this the threat you feared?” Daniel asked.

“No,” she blinked and looked at them. “I fear that the golem who had taken my place has somehow become one with the man who learned to use the Tesseract – the Red Skull. I need to know what really happened on the plane between Johann Schmidt and Captain America.”

“No one knows that,” Jack said. Ice settled into his gut as he realized what she was implying. “I’m not sure that even S.H.I.E.L.D. has that information. The connection was too choppy for any real communication. Why?”

“A golem is like a robot, programmed to do a few things. This golem has filled my function and what he hasn’t, Odin has. When I went walking, I saw his eyes. They weren’t completely open. Something has given him a new life, a new soul…I saw the Tesseract’s power weaving through him. But the Tesseract alone can’t account for the change I saw,” she sighed. “If through some freakish twist of fate, Schmidt blended with him, we could be looking at a war. He will want to finish what he began. And now he is in a body created by the gods, given the true abilities of an Aesir, with Thor’s blind devotion to him in place.”

“Odin would stop them. He has before.”

“The All Father is a fool who has been meddling with powers he has no ken of. It has laid him low and when he falls into Odinsleep, it will be a miracle if he wakes up,” she spat out. “Contrary to what myths say, he is not all powerful. His all sight only comes from his throne. The powers of the gods were divided up for a reason.”

“It weakened him,” Jack guessed. “Because your role is one he no longer fits.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “At one time he did. He has more of a devilish mind than I do. But he became the All Father and changed. The problem now is that he will listen to counsel from no one. Once, I held his ear but that is no longer the case.”

“So what do we do?”

“I’m not sure there’s anything we can do except prepare. Until the threat comes to us, we’re trapped in inactivity.”

“You know, it’s times like this that I miss the Goa’uld.”

Daniel stared at Jack, “Really?”

“With the exception of Ba’al, you always knew what they wanted.” Jack squeezed her shoulder, his question fatherly. “And what was Stark doing at your place?”

“I don’t know,” she said, sitting down at his insistence. “May be he was preparing to say good-bye. He’s dying.”

“Of what?” Daniel softly asked.

“If I had to guess, I’d say metal poisoning. The human body was never meant to have a unit such as his inserted into it.” There was resignation in her voice.

“Can you handle it?” Jack cautiously asked. Every father instinct he ever had – and ones he didn’t know existed – were screaming at him that his child was in danger and that he had to get her out of it. Unfortunately, Luka was an adult and he had to force that voice to be quiet.

Luka sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’d give him the apple of Idunn if I thought he’d accept it. And she wouldn’t, you know, betray me to Odin.”

Daniel winced, knowing what that meant. “Isn’t that a bit…extreme?”

“This bond is different from the others I’ve established with my students. It’s somehow…older and stronger, almost like I’ve reconnected to him,” she mused, trying to shake off that impression. “It also doesn’t help that he hasn’t just let the blasted thing die.”

“I guess I could’ve asked him about those stupid coils,” Jack offered with a scowl. The military had been on his case about asking Stark to help them, seeing no problem in using Luka’s friendship as a way in. Jack would never say yes, not wanting to use a friendship to get something accomplished.

“Thanks but it wouldn’t have helped.”

“Doesn’t it bother anyone that one of the Odinsons – well, Odinsdóttir – is living here on Earth?” Jacob finally voiced the question that had been circling his mind. Though he was upset, his voice and posture remained mild, unthreatening.

“I am not a child of Odin.”

“I believe that you are. My memory of the Galaxy and the many realms is extensive. Odin has several sons, one of which is Loki.”

“Your information is incorrect because of a spell. While I was raised in the Palace, it was as an orphan of war,” she snapped. “I was found, in a Temple with my dying mother. If my father Laufey ever knew that I existed, I don’t know. Nor do I care. I am no longer of either realm. I am of Earth.”

“This is something that we should have been told.”

“Selmak, no offense but no, you shouldn’t have. When the alliance between the Tok’ra and the Tua’ri was made, I was not in the program. As such, there was no reason to say anything. There has been no breach of trust – on our end. How many things have you kept from us?”

“We do not tell you everything for your own good. As a race, you still have much to learn.”

“As an ally, you have much to learn,” she retorted. “And you have no moral ground to stand upon. My life up until this moment was not a matter of galactic security. The only reason I have not completely decimated your memory of this meeting is that I value Jacob. He has been a good friend to Jack. But make no mistake, Selmak, I care very little for hypocrites. If you keep secrets from us, expect the same behavior in return.”

________________________________________

Luka returned home, weary of this whole business. She had not been expecting to the Tok’ra to be there. And having to lay down the law on one who had been mostly on their side was unpleasant. Seeing Janet waiting, she frowned, nervous. Usually the doctor left a message on the phone if there was anything to be done. “Is everything all right?”

“He shouldn’t be alive, Luka.”

Tony stumbled to a stop, listening in. Her words sounded so cold, so hard, and fatal – as if there was no other option but death. It wasn’t that he had doubted his AI’s word because he knew him inside and out. But there was a finality about hearing someone else say it. He could see Luka’s reflection in the picture, still, with her head bowed and wondered what she was thinking. Was she thinking the same thing he had when he’d heard the news?

“Then why is he? Will power alone cannot explain it,” she said.

“No,” Janet hesitated. “You haven’t…you know…augmented him somehow?”

Luka sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I have not. Not that the idea has not occurred to me but I wouldn’t do that to him. It is possible that his body is pulling some of my power into him through the bond, sustaining him. Yet, I believe that the element that is keeping him alive prevents such a thing. Have you found anything odd in his body? Other than the palladium?” she asked.

“A few herbal remedies that are slowing down the degeneration but nothing that would allow him to continue to live,” Janet replied, pulling on her jacket. “I can’t explain it, Luka.”

“Anthony’s will to survive is strong.”

“But he’s going to need more than that,” she said before walking to the door. “He should be asleep but with the heat in his body, I don’t think he’s able to get true rest. If he’s to survive, he needs something more than what he’s got.”

“Yeah, he needs something not of this world,” Luka muttered.

“What?” Janet asked.

“Nothing,” Luka shook it off.

“I don’t think so, young lady. If there’s something we can do, we should know about it.”

Rubbing her neck, she looked at Janet. She wrestled for a moment with telling her but ultimately decided that she couldn’t. She would give her enough to satisfy her need to know but other than that…what she knew was for Anthony alone. “What he needs, he won’t find easily for it doesn’t yet exist. And as much as I wish to aid him, I would only get in the way.”

“You know what he needs?”

“Something new, something unique, something only a Stark mind could come up with,” she quietly said. Tony heard the words and wondered what she meant.

Once the door closed, he wondered why she was resting against the door. It wasn’t **_her_** life that was in danger. Well, not unless this bond thing could pull her into death with him. They never had gone into the full details of it.  “You knew I was there, listening to you. Didn’t you,” it was not a question.

“As you once said, Anthony, you could feel me. I could feel you.”

“If I asked you for help, would you?”

She pushed herself up from the door and walked to him. Gently, she touched his face, “I would. But you must find the answer first. I cannot do it for you.”

Tony’s eyes closed, nodding. This was something he had expected, had wanted to hear confirmed. Though he was notorious for his hedonistic ways, he did not take anything from anyone any longer. Letting himself sag against her, he wondered at her lower body temperature. He’d noticed it before but had never given it much thought. Now, as he rested against her, he felt it soothe his heated flesh. “Come to bed with me?”

“Anthony…”

“Just to rest, Luka,” he interrupted her, “Please.”

She was silent for so long, he almost reiterated his words. A sigh left her lips. “All right, but only because you said please,” still, there was doubt in her voice as they went upstairs. Once more in her pajamas, she got in beside him. “How do you want to do this?” Uncertainty colored her voice as they lay there, neither one knowing what to do. Who should move first. How exactly were they supposed to hold each other. Other than with Abraham she had no experience.

Even when she had been with Thor, it has always been about teaching him and never about just being in the moment.

“How should I know? I don’t usually cuddle women,” he snapped. “But we’re two intelligent people, I’m sure we can figure it out.” Shifting around, they finally figured out where their arms and legs should go, which one of them should be the holder and which should be held. At first, it was hardly comfortable since they did not know each other’s bodies enough to relax completely into the other but after a few moments, they settled relaxed.

She just hoped they would both be able to get some rest.

________________________________________

Fury walked in and she looked up, seeing him and Agent Coulson standing just behind him. It was not unusual to see them together. They’d often come across each other at U.N. functions, even exchanged a few words. Enough for her to know that she would never be comfortable with either man. There was just something about them that she didn’t trust. What was unusual was to see them here. What business did they have with Home World Security?

A polite smile crossed her face as she rose. “Director Fury, Agent Coulson,” she greeted, extending her hand which only Agent Coulson accepted. This was not a surprise to her for Director Fury always looked at her as if he was expecting her to do something else. Sometimes she thought it possible that Fury knew who she actually was. The idea that he might and did nothing was both worrisome and oddly comforting.

“Save the pleasantries, Erskine. Is O’Neill in?”

She blinked at him. Usually Fury was not so abrupt with her or anyone. Her stomach churned as she recalled her spirit walk. It had been so silent, she’d hoped that the situation had been resolved. She knew it was entirely possible that she’d been kept out of it if anyone from Asgard had come to Earth but she thought that Jack would’ve said something to her after it was all over.

S.H.I.E.L.D. was keeping things from them, she knew that it was to be expected but groaned internally about the politics behind this action and knew that Jack would **_not_** be pleased. Their two organizations may work under the same area of the U.N. but they were like the C.I.A. and the FBI. Two distinct branches that did similar jobs but who rarely, if ever worked together.

“At the moment he is speaking to the Prime Minister and General Vidrine. Could I get you a cup of coffee while you wait?”

“No,” Fury glared when Coulson cleared his throat. “Thank you for the offer,” he grudgingly added. “Is Jackson available?”

“I’ll see,” she sat back down and rang Daniel’s office, noticing Coulson’s apologetic look. She shrugged, giving him a sympathetic look. It was the only thing they’d bonded on, bosses that seemed to ignore the societal niceties if it got in the way of what they wanted. If not for the fact that she couldn’t really relax around him, she thought she’d rather like Coulson. “Dr. Jackson? Are you able to see Director Fury and Agent Coulson?”

“ _Must I_?” he asked, the slightest of whines in his voice. “ _I’ve got ten different translations, a few new items that McKay finally gave me to look over, and I am scheduled to fly back to Colorado to give a brief on P3C- 34G_.”

The phone was taken from her rather abruptly. “When were you going to let us in on the little fact that aliens are real?” Fury asked.

“ _Since when is it a concern to you_?”

“When it became something we had to clean up because of your laziness.”

“ _It is hardly laziness if we are the ones who are not allowed to monitor things in certain areas_ ,” Daniel sharply retorted.

“You are not going to deny that you’ve been keeping information from us?”

“ _Come to my office_ ,” Daniel’s voice was like ice. “ _And I expect you to apologize to Dr. Erskine for this unprofessional behavior_.”

“Sorry,” he said after hanging up. Though he didn’t sound at all sorry, she accepted the apology. It was the best she would ever receive from the man. She was rather surprised she’d gotten that much from him. “Coulson, remain here and speak to O’Neill.”

“Do I even want to know?” Her fingers flew over the keyboard, typing in another report Walter had sent their way.

Coulson sat down, “Probably not. He’s been rather upset since New Mexico and the arrival of Thor.”

 _How could you tell_? The thought came to her and she had to bite her lip to keep from saying anything. She knew he would know what she was thinking anyway, he’d often commented on his boss’ inscrutability. “Odinson?” she asked, head bowed over her work. “Has he done something to harm anyone?”

“Were you aware that we might run into him?”

She looked at him then, a smile quirking her lips. “Coulson, we never know what we’re going to find or who we may piss off accidentally. I can’t say that he was one of those we ever thought we’d met up with but we were aware of the possibility.”

“So you knew of them,” he said.

“Of course,” she said. “You did read the information we provided for you.”

“It didn’t go into that much detail,” his response was dry.

“Agent,” she started.

“Phil.”

“What?”

“My name is Phil.”

“You have a name?”

He just looked at her. “Stop channeling Stark. Really, just stop. One of him is too much.”

A laugh escaped her. “All right, Phil. You may call me Luka.”

“Why is it that you’ll call him by name without blackmail?”

“Because he’s cuter than you,” she deadpanned.

“Not possible,” Tony replied. “Grab your coat, Luka. Agent. Its lunchtime and I’m providing food.”

“Mr. Stark.”

“Not hearing it, Agent. You can either stay or go. But I’m kidnapping my favorite…what are you exactly? You aren’t really the tux and tails type magician.”

“I rather despise that term when used in that context,” she mildly commented. Though she did wonder if he’d actually come up with something to describe what they were. She hardly knew how to classify them herself because he was absolutely unlike anyone she’d ever known. “Perhaps you should try thaumaturge.”

“Too long.”

“Theurgist?”

“Archaic.”

“Just because it is an older sounding term does not mean it is outdated.”

“Ignoring that. We’ve shared a bed twice,” he said.

“And haven’t done anything more than cuddle, though that one occurred at the fourth sleep-over.”

“You’re my sass partner.”

“Because I need the practice and you really don’t need another yes man in your life.”

“Luka.”

“Anthony.”

“What?” Phil asked, watching the two of them. It was rather like watching verbal tennis only more interesting.

“That’s right, Agent, you probably didn’t know it. But, Luka here, she’s like my third half.”

“Is that even mathematically possible?”

Tony shrugged. “I don’t see why not. If someone can have a fifth of a child, why can’t someone have a third half?”

“Does that mean Ms. Potts is mine too?”

“Nah,” he clapped his hands. “Come on, up. Up!”

“Pushy,” she gripped but shut down the computer. She’d already arranged this surprise lunch with Jack, figuring that Anthony would want to celebrate his new lease on life. Jack was just thrilled that Stark hadn’t needed her help in the end, finding the cure on his own – with some much needed help from his dad.

“Oh, don’t act as if you aren’t pushy yourself, princess.”

Phil watched the back and forth between the two as he followed them outside. Fury would most likely not like that he’d left before seeing the General. But he felt it was a little more important to observe this new feature in Stark’s life. The Widow had not mentioned Luka once. And while they had known that the two knew each other, none of their information had revealed this depth of friendship to them.

For the first time in a while, he felt as though he was missing something. A piece of the puzzle had slipped out of its spot. Without it, he couldn’t see the whole picture. And in this situation he really wanted to. Unlike Pepper and Tony’s relationship, Phil couldn’t figure out what the connection between them was and it itched his skin, begging for an answer.

Because there was something about Luka Erskine that bothered him.

Just as she couldn’t rest easy in his presence, he couldn’t in hers. Seeing her with Stark, it made him wonder just what it was she was keeping hidden from the rest of the world. And he agreed with Fury, she wasn’t telling everyone everything. And sooner or later they would all be called into account for her secrecy.

The question was, would she be with them or against them?

________________________________________


	9. The Return of Captain Steven Rogers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's really all in the title.
> 
> This Chapter is one that's given me a few head-aches. I wanted to start it differently but, as anyone who writes knows, what we want and what works best are often two very different things. As a result, I am very unsure of this chapter for it breaks the mold that I've been following. _sighs_ I just hope it works out.

________________________________________

Luka fingered the side pocket of her jacket as she followed Jack into S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters, wondering if they would allow her to see Captain America. Or even if she wanted to see him since the man was newly reborn into this world. If they told him, perhaps he also felt doubt and wouldn’t wish to see anyone who would remind him viciously of the past. Though she had the proper security clearance, she was an unknown to him.

Not to mention that this wasn’t a building she and Jack were used to entering.

Yes, the revelation of aliens had brought the two organizations into closer contact. Still, they did not come into each other’s territory without an invitation. The secretary took their names and gestured for them to sit down in the antechamber. It was to be hoped that we did not meet Director Fury. Things had been a little tense between him and Jack ever since Thor’s visit and Fury’s subsequent behavior towards her and Daniel.

Closing her eyes, she rubbed her knee through her dress and hoped this wouldn’t take too long. Not only was she Jack’s stand in date until Sara got away from work but she just couldn’t rid herself of the feeling that something was going to go horribly wrong.

Or perhaps it would go horribly right but as she was not used to anything going the way it was supposed to, she didn’t know quite how to categorize her feelings.

“Nervous?” Jack asked, flipping through the fishing magazine he’d brought.

Where he hid the thing in his dress blues she didn’t know but knew the talent was something that came in handy. “Terrified, sir.”

“I’ve never known you to be terrified of anything since the day I met you,” a voice interspersed into their conversation from the doorway. “Mouthier that I’m used to, yes – and you always directed that attitude towards me even when I never provoked you. Terrified, no.”

“Do you have some kind of permanent Amber alert on me or something?”

“Or something,” he unabashedly said with a shrug and a wink. It was an oblique reference to the still active bond between them that she had yet to break because every time it weakened, he suddenly found a reason to get in touch. “Luka. Nice dress,” he complimented, eyeing the sky blue dress that she wore critically.

It was much simpler, definitely less sexy than the dresses he’d seen other women wear. She wasn’t showing off any cleavage. Or even enough leg to constitute as a mild flirt, which was a shame because she had excellent legs. Although, looking at the formal wear that the General was wearing, he got the feeling that her outfit was appropriate for wherever they were going.

“Thank you,” she replied.

“Could do with a little more skin showing,” he said.

“Anthony!” she scolded, looking past him as she saw movement and stood up. “Captain Rogers. I wasn’t expecting you to see you. I would’ve thought that you would want some time to think about meeting me.”

“The granddaughter of Greta and Abraham Erskine requests a meeting with me at my convenience, there was no need to think about it. I was sorry to read the report on her death.” He tugged self-consciously upon his new Class A uniform, uncertain of what to make of his having it. While he acknowledged the necessity of possessing the uniform until he was either discharged of his duties or reinstated, it didn’t feel as comfortable to him as his old uniforms.

Never did he think he would miss wearing the mask of Captain America but, in the face of this new world, he needed all the bravado that anonymity provided.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “Time has lessened the ache of loss but it hasn’t really disappeared.” A throat cleared sharply and she looked over to her right, coloring slightly. “Sorry, Jack. Uhm, General O’Neill, this is Captain Steven Rogers and Anthony Stark. Captain, Anthony, this is General Jack O’Neill.”

Steve looked surprised at hearing himself addressed as Steven – only Mrs. Erskine had done that. Even though Abraham had done so, it was too sporadic for him to count as a constant. The man had been like a father to him and had often called him Steve when he wanted to set him at ease. Hearing that name, in a voice so similar to Greta’s with the eyes that were Abraham’s, he felt at home in this world.

Then he saluted the General sharply, flushing slightly because he’d ignored his presence. If this man was anything like Colonel Philips, there would be some write up on his behavior. Not that such things could really damage his standing but it wasn’t something he wished to be on his files, “Sir. It is an honor to meet you.”

“At ease, soldier. And the honor is mine to meet you, Captain Rogers.”

A bitter smile twisted his lips. “Yeah, everyone wants to meet the great Captain America.”

“That’s not what I said,” Jack’s words were sharp. “I said it was an honor to meet Captain **_Rogers_** , not Captain America – and I meant it. The title means nothing without a good man giving it meaning and that is what you did. Do not think for one moment that I care about reputations. It is the man – and I mean that in a universal sense – that I care about. You did your country right and proud. Never forget that, Captain.”

“Yes, sir.” Steve looked down for a moment, “Sorry, sir.”

“You should be for lumping me in with the mindless sheep,” he snorted. “Luka, five minutes.”

Nodding at the reminder, she turned back to Steven. “Captain Rogers,” she started.

“Steven,” he interrupted and then flushed. “Sorry.”

“I didn’t want to presume anything just because you knew my grandparents, Steven,” she replied, smiling.

“How come he gets to be Steven in less than five minutes and you’ve only recently begun to call me Anthony? We’ve known each other for more than twenty years! **_And_** I had to bribe you to get you to call me even that.”

Rolling her eyes at his pout, she answered, “Because he’s never presumed anything about me nor tried to force his way into my life. You also must take into account that I know him and consider him family through my grandparents’ words about him. As you have the complete and utter adoration of practically the entire world, I don’t quite understand why you believe that you need me to give you apropos of existence.”

Turning back, her smile was gentle. “I was entrusted with a letter for you. I was told to give it only to you. And if I was unable to because you had yet to be found, to have one of my children do so.”

Steve went very still before walking up to her. There was a nervous, restless, and decidedly unsettled feeling inside of him. One he tried to ignore but knew would not dissipate. “It’s from Howard.”

Though it was not a question, she answered it as if it was one. There was something in his eyes that begged for vocal confirmation. For something from her that only she could give as she had this piece from his past – a piece that was uncontaminated by others and touched only by two. “Yes, he wanted to be sure that you alone read it. I’ve kept it with me all this time, never trusting fate enough to leave it behind.”

He exhaled heavily, nodding. “Thank you,” his voice was a whisper as he accepted the envelope. The bold writing was familiar and he felt the ache of loss all over again, tearing into him. If he tried, he could almost smell the engine fluids and the coffee that Howard always reeked of. The scents he’d learned to love, to smell in order to know that he was home – that he was safe.

_Howard_ …it was an aching tear in his soul, a wound ripped open and unable to heal. He missed the man. And because there was no one who had known about them once they’d gone to Europe save Peggy, there was none he could talk to about it.

He hadn’t yet dug up the courage to call her number and speak to her. She was a friend, a dear confidant, but the thought of calling her up terrified him.  She would be so ashamed of him for his cowardice. But he just couldn’t talk to her, not when he no longer knew if he could share in her life.  “Can I…would it be permissible for me to get in touch with you?”

“I would like nothing better, Steven.” Reaching into her side pocket, she removed a card from her wallet. “It has both my personal and my business phone numbers. And my address, in case you’d rather write than e-mail me. You know, I don’t mind regular mail. There are even some days that I crave it, something about the tactile feel of a letter as opposed to reading it off of a screen.”

“He gets your address without a fight too?” Tony was definitely upset. “How is this fair?”

“Luka, time’s up,” Jack got up and headed for the door, shaking his head at her.

Lifting her shoulders, she could only give him a hopeless look before nodding a good-bye to Steven. As she walked passed Tony, she whispered, a devilish light entered her eyes. “But Anthony, you’ve always had the option of winning my heart. You’ve just never wanted it, preferring the company of others in fleeting spaces to a lasting relationship with one such as I.” _Suck on that one_ , she thought as she gave him a smile.

The distressed sound that Steve made took Tony’s attention away from her long enough for her to escape. “What is it?” he asked even as he wondered if she was playing a game with him. If so, what was it? And how could he turn it to his advantage?

Steve’s eyes bore that haunted, sick look to them as they met his.

But there was something more to his look, something that Tony didn’t really want to think about for it meant that there was something else about his dad that he didn’t know. Shaking his head at last, unable to get the words past a closed throat, Steve left the room. Sitting on his bed, he fingered the letter and read it again, trying to memorize the words as if they would disappear. As if he had to destroy the thoughts and words committed to paper, the emotions of the man who had meant the world to him and more once he’d let go of what he thought he wanted and reached for what he needed.

Though the world had changed, a lifetime of being afraid was hard to ignore.

_December 16, 1991_

_My dearest Steven,_

_How I wish that I could’ve found you, that I could actually call you by name again, that my arms could hold you and receive of your affection. I must warn you that I will become dreadfully sentimental and beg that you indulge and forgive me for it._

_Though I have never used your formal name, I always wanted to, thinking that it would’ve been something singular to who we were. A kind of special acknowledgement of all that we were to each other, although such feelings may have only been on my end. I believe that such is to be my greatest regret, that I will never know if my feelings were truly reciprocated or if it was only the product of an overworked, overly brilliant mind seeking the equal of another kindred soul._

_Alas, finding such answers in this universe was not meant to be._

_For all my flaunted genius, this is the one time your favorite egghead let you down. I still maintain that the tracker would have worked had it not been broken no matter what you say. I do_ **not** _make mistakes when the lives of those in my hands are at stake, especially the first real friend I’ve ever had. This is my reputation we’re talking about being damaged here. Don’t roll your eyes at me, Steven, you know that it is true._

_As I write this, the realities of my fear that I will never truly save you has finally sunk in. I’m living on borrowed time and should’ve listened to the advice I was given by Jacob Erskine. Had I done so, I might’ve been able to make the necessary breakthroughs needed to bring you home. Yet even if such a thing was possible, I am old, Steven, and will never be able to stand by your side as I once did though I know that your deep loyalty to me would never let you express such thoughts and feelings._

_While I theorized that the serum would preserve you and if found, you would wake up without any aid, I could never be sure that this was so. As I have not the original formula and do not think we could ever find someone with your spirit, I would not be able to experiment on another. Even if I could, I would not. I find that I have grown weary of being a kind of Dr. Frankenstein to the world. Would that such a thing was possible, I could use technology to run through simulations. But I lack the resources and the advances for such projects._

_Hopefully, it will be a comfort to you to know that I was able to work out ways to return you to life from your cryogenic sleep should it prove necessary, though I must trust them into others hands._

_Forgive me for my moment of weakness in seeking out the warmth and affection of another when the pain of losing you was too great. Maria was a glorious mistake. She knew of the truth of my affections and never pressed for more than a stable home environment for our son. I know that you would be disappointed in me if I did not at least_ **attempt** _to care for her, I did try. We became friends for she had her own kind of brilliance. But she was not you and I could not love her the way she deserved. I could not truly love our son._

_Thus I failed to be a proper father to him and it did not help that his genius rivaled my own._

_It is, perhaps, greater than what I possessed. And you, of all those I knew, realize how I would react upon realizing the truth._

_Geniuses are notoriously jealous and protect their rank to the detriment of those who could be friend and ally. You were always the one who reminded me to be thoughtful, to be kind to those around me. I tried but…I was never quite the father to him – to Anthony – that I could’ve been. I do love him. Never doubt that, Steven. He is my greatest creation; I just never knew how to relate to him. To be the kind of father to him that he needed. You would’ve known what to do, you always did._

_For all my people skills, relating to others was not something I excelled at._

_Please, forgive me for my failure to save you. The one time my genius mattered the most was the one time it failed me. It failed to help me save the most important person in my life. Greta did try to help me until it became obvious that someone of great power was hunting her. Protect her, Steven, for something from her past is stalking her. She is still among us, though her form is different. I have already failed her twice but believe that you won’t do the same._

_I know that the possibility of us having a happy ending was never more than a pipe dream but I had been thinking of ways to make it possible. Greta was in on this dream, was all to willing to help me out though the risk to her was great. Due to certain circumstances of which you are entirely aware of, it never happened. Do not mourn for me for long, Steven. I never regretted what we had or what we shared though I could’ve wished for more time._

_Time was all I ever wanted with you._

_Time I was denied._

_I must close this letter and yet, I have a thousand thoughts and feelings, words that need to be expressed. Yet, it cannot be. There is no longer time for that for I do not want you to do as I have done and squander your future by dwelling in the past. Please, take care of yourself now that I am no longer there to help you though I know that you scoff at such things. You always…you always did the best you could no matter what you had._

_Know that I love you and_ **REGRET NOTHING** _. You were the best part of me. I must close for as I feared and warned you before, I have become dreadfully maudlin and sentimental._

_Ever yours,_  
 _Howard_

“Howard,” Steve whispered, closing his eyes. Drowning, he was drowning in sorrow. The bed was a twin, just right for one. And yet, in that moment he felt that it was too large, too empty, too…too _**soulless**_ for him. Pushing himself upright, the letter clutched tightly in his hand, he left. He didn’t know where he was going, just that he had to **_go_**.

Had to get out of this building with its stale air and cold functionality that held none of the warmth he was used to seeing. Seeing an agent rounding the corner, he asked, “Where is General O’Neill staying?”

“I don’t know, sir, but I do know that there’s a function at Wyatt Hall. You might try to find him there,” she replied, making a mental note of his expression.

“Thank you,” he looked quickly at her badge, “Agent Carter.” For a moment, he wavered. This must be Sharon Carter, Peggy’s niece. It was nice to see that the strength and tenacity of his friend had not been a one shot deal. He’d realized that some of the women he’d worked with, whose energy and verve had sadly not gone farther than them. But as he moved the letter into his pocket, he knew that he needed…he needed to _talk_ to someone who would understand where he was coming from.

Howard hadn’t trusted easily, but he trusted Luka.

_Luka_ …something about her reminded him of home, of an understanding ear. Navigating his way, he walked into the building. For a moment only did he feel out of his depth when he saw the company mingling around. This wasn’t just any kind of military function for he’d never seen such mingled company of soldiers and scientists – with not one politician in sight.

Smoothing his hair down and making sure that his uniform didn’t show signs of his agitation, he entered the main hall. “Is Ms. Erskine here?” he asked, choosing one of the least intimidating people there.

“You mean Dr. Erskine?” the woman looked him over. Her brown eyes took in the uniform and the way he stood, noting that he seemed rather clean cut for a captain. Of course, it had taken that Jonas fellow a few years to lose his childlike expression, so this man might be more of a pencil pusher who worked behind the scenes rather than one who’d been in the field. Though such a thought didn’t work with the decorations on his uniform. A husky chuckle escaped her and she gestured with the flute of champagne in her hand towards a table. “She’s over there, between General O’Neill and Dr. Jackson. If I were you, handsome, I wouldn’t even bother.”

“What?” he asked, fully looking at her. With a silent groan, he realized that he recognized her kind of person. A well intentioned but ultimately too nosy busy body – Jacques Dernier had tended to be that way. In fact, he cheerfully admitted once that it was only the war that had cured him of being insufferable with his nosiness. But that it was also that nosiness that had allowed him to go as far as he had in the French Resistance. And would all of his _amis_ please stop groaning about it, they knew he was right.

“I’ve been to several of these functions and no one has ever been able to remove her from them. If General O’Neill doesn’t threaten you away with a look,” she paused to take a drink, “Then Dr. Jackson will send you away. Don’t ask me how, I’ve never really stayed around after being on the receiving end of his look.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Steve quietly said.

“Oh, it’s more than that, son. It’s a warning. Now, why don’t I introduce you to a few nice people,” she offered, brushing back a lock of white hair.

“Again, thank you, ma’am. But I really need to see Luka,” he tried to step back. Nervousness danced along his spine, the crowd suddenly seemed bigger and much closer to him. Around the edges of his eyes, black spots were beginning to form. His uniform felt constricting and he could feel the sweat form on his brow. Trying not to let it show, he drew in a deep breath, trying to still the need to gulp in air.

“Steven?” Luka asked, suddenly there. “I thought you weren’t going to be able to make it. Thank you, Mrs. Davish, for watching out for him. These functions are dreadful when you don’t really know anyone. Please, Daniel wants to meet you.” Linking her arm through his, she kept up a gentle flow of talk until they were at the table. Once the introductions were out of the way, she tilted her head and looked at him. “Are you all right?”

“I feel lost, Luka,” he whispered. His eyes when they met hers were glossy, almost blank. “I need…need Howard.”

Luka closed her eyes, resting a hand on his arm. “Steven,” she started to say, biting her lip to prevent herself from saying anything else. They were hardly in the right place for this kind of soul destroying grief. _What had Howard written_? Turning to Jack and Daniel, “Do you really need me tonight? Daniel’s a far better deterrent than I could ever be.”

“Go on, Janet and Sara will be here soon,” Daniel said, ignoring Jack’s sour look. It wasn’t that Jack minded the presence of his wife, so much as the fact that the doc was going to be there. Yes, he loved Janet but he was not overly fond of the fact that the woman who knew him more intimately than his wife did was dating his best friend, not to mention was Sara’s best friend.

And despite how Luka felt, both of them knew that she really was stronger at keeping the social predators at bay.

Jack heaved a put upon sigh when she looked at him, “Go forth. Bond. Don’t come back pregnant.”

“JACK!” she protested. Then her eyes twinkled, “That was only once and the conditions were extenuating – and related to work. It was easily resolved.”

“Still, I need you in the field. You suck when you’re trapped behind a desk.”

“You know,” she smirked, “I believe that you should be looking in a mirror when you say that. I guess this spoon will have to do.”

“Is he teasing you, honey?”

She pathetically smiled, “When isn’t he, Janet?”

“Hmmmm, perhaps I should make this a working vacation,” Janet mused, sitting beside Daniel and leaning against his arm.

“I wouldn’t object,” Sara replied, squeezing Jack’s hand. “I need this ol’ warhorse to be in the best shape.”

“And that’s our cue to leave,” Luka muttered in Steven’s ear. Leading the way, they walked outside. “Did you drive here?”

“Ran,” he said.

“Right,” she nodded, disturbed by that one word. It told her far more about his mental state than she was prepared to hear. The letter must’ve contained news that he wasn’t ready for. Or Howard had finally told him of his feelings, feelings that had run deeper and truer than what the inventor had been expecting when the two of them had gotten together. She hoped he wasn’t at the point that she had been when she’d lost Abraham, ready to die because life had become so pointless, seemed so…so _empty_.

Whistling shrilly, she opened the door to the taxi that stopped for them. “Take us to the best forties style joint New York has to offer,” she told the driver as she got in after him. “You, my friend, are in desperate need of comfort food.”

After their orders were given, she waited for him to speak. When it became obvious that he wouldn’t – or couldn’t more likely – she started to speak. If there was one thing she could do, it was talk. About anything and everything, throwing in just enough amusing bits of information that no one threatened to shoot or strangle her. Both of which were distinct possibilities she freely admitted.

“Why do we wait until it’s too late to tell someone we love them because we fear their reaction?” he quietly asked. His eyes finally lifted from the food before him, food he’d been half-eating, half-playing with, to bore into hers.

“Because love scares us more than anything else in the world,” she softly replied. “Love is the ultimate expression of vulnerability. We are placing everything before another person, opening ourselves up, giving them power over us, handing them our heart, and waiting for them to say yea or nay. It isn’t an easy thing to do and there are no guarantees even when you know the emotions are reciprocated. So many things could go wrong even with the one you love, from outside influences to one’s habits, it is not easy.”

“Greta?” the name escaped him on a gasp. For a moment, as once before, her image shimmered before him. Revealing that more real, more vibrant, less fake woman that was behind the façade of a mortal woman. Her eyes, so very green now, acknowledged his words. Accepted the name that she’d once borne, “How is this possible?”

“It is something that you are not ready to hear, though I am sure that Howard’s letter hinted about me.”

He drew in a shaky breath, “Yes, he…”

Raising her hand to stop him, she shook her head. “I need not hear his words, Steven, to know that he asked you to do something for him regarding me. Find yourself, heal the brokenness inside you first, that is all I ask of you.”

“How do I do that?” he raggedly asked.

“With great difficulty for there will be days when drawing air into your lungs seems like the greatest of accomplishments,” she admitted. Her words were halting, almost faltering when they came. “Time eases the aches but it does not lessen the hurting, the need for that one person to be there. Don’t expect to one day wake up and have all your pain be gone. Unfortunately, it does not work that way. And when one has loved deeply, the healing takes longer. It’s been over seventy years for me and I still wake up, reaching for Abraham. The hardest part is trying to be around others. Some days are good, some are not – and that is why I have surrounded myself with those I trust.”

“You have had many lovers,” he recalled her once saying. Once, when she had told him the truth of who she really was when he asked about the form he’d seen before he’d become Captain America, when he was still just the underdog Steve. Unfortunately, such a truth escaped him, though it would return in time. “But only one love.”

“Yes,” she replied, looking out the window. Her fingers played against the tabletop, eyes drawn almost against her will towards Stark Tower. There was something about Anthony as there had been about Abraham that reminded her of the only one who’d ever really loved her as herself before the Asgardian universe had been reset. “Though such things are folly, sentimental nonsense really, I believe that there is always the chance for the soul’s true rebirth. At some point, each soul will be reborn. You are destined for a long life, Steven. I do not think that the Nons would be so cruel as to rob you of happiness forever.”

“The Nons?”

She half-smiled, facing him again. “The Fates if you would prefer. Every once in a while I slip into my upbringing as a good, pagan god fearing girl.”

“You know my stance on that,” he said.

“But I also know that the Bill of Rights guarantees me the freedom to worship how and who I will. While we still struggle to understand that everyone should also have the right to believe what they will, and to try not to infringe upon their rights, they are still written down as a promise to us all.”

Steve’s head inclined, accepting her words. They ate in silence for a time before he looked at her. Really looked at her, seeing her once more in the guise of Luka, nothing special there. And yet, there was still something about her that tugged his memory, reminding him of what he once knew. And felt guilty for forgetting though she obviously didn’t mind. There was something that said she preferred it.

But why? What could she possibly be afraid of? As he’d worked with Wolverine, he had no problems with mutants. “Luka, you know I would never betray you,” he quietly said.

“I know, Steven.” She took a drink, “Just as I know that when your mind is ready, you will remember everything.”

“Howard’s solution…what was it?” he suddenly asked.

“Steven, don’t do this to yourself.”

“Please, Greta. I have to know.”

Director Fury walked in and stopped at their table, sparing her for the moment. Luka knew it was only a momentary reprieve and wondered just what she was to do even as she heard him say, “Captain Rogers.”

“Sir,” he replied, finishing his meal. He could’ve cursed the man for his timing but his manners wouldn’t let him. Knowing the kind of man Fury was, he knew that he wouldn’t come in person if it was just a matter of form. There were others to perform such errands.

“Ma’am,” he then addressed her.

“Director, thank you for allowing me the company of Captain Rogers,” even as she said the words, she came to a conclusion. Though it would only cause him further pain, she knew he’d be running thousands of scenarios through his mind, trying to figure out what Howard would do. She would tell him before he made himself sick. Because she knew that Steven could worry himself to that point.

Even if she hadn't particularly cared for the solution that Howard had proposed, she acknowledged his realism. It had been one of the only ways to achieve his goals. “He made was what to be an extra-ordinarily dull night that much better.”

He only nodded, “Rogers, we need to talk.”

“Go,” she waved him on with a smile. “I’ve got this covered. And if you ever need me, I’m just a phone call away.” As she said it, she lifted her phone.

His vibrated and he looked at her curiously, seeing her wink. “I’ll remember that.” They stepped outside and got into the waiting car. Knowing Fury would want to talk at S.H.I.E.L.D.'s headquarters, he pulled the phone out. It took him several moments but he remembered how to work the text, grateful that he'd talked them into letting him have the simplest phone they had available. It wasn't fancy but he could work it.

Well, sorta.

_Howard would’ve made a cute girl, wouldn’t he? LE_

Steve was grateful that it was dark, though he was almost positive that Fury could see his heightened color. It had been something of a joke to Bucky. That even after all he had seen and done, Steve’s blush would still cover his entire body. And it was true. He certainly **_felt_** like he could light up a Christmas Tree. Then the meaning sank in, he leaned back into the seat with a silent sigh.

It took him a few minutes but he finally sent her a reply. _He didn’t…I mean, you wouldn’t have been able to do that. Howard’s a…well, he was an engineer, not a biochemist. And you’re, well, you were just a housewife_.

_Just a housewife? Oh, Steven, you are going to regret that when you fully remember everything. LE._

_And you won’t just tell me?_

_Again, no. While you have never been fond of secrets, some must be kept until one’s mind is ready to accept them. Steven, it is for the best. If you were ready for the truth, you would’ve remembered by now. And Howard would’ve done anything to be with you. **Anything.** But he would not begrudge you some happiness. If you find another, it’s ok. LE._

_Speaking from experience?_

There was a long pause before he received another message. _Until recently, no one had caught my eye. I’m not sure what it will lead to. I’m not even sure that it is wise to pursue the matter but…I’m not so closed off to the possibility as I once was. I will just have to see how it goes. LE._

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate how that was a proposed solution to their situation. Love in all forms is a gift but not all see it that way, so I had to deal with what was. And dealing with the times and the reality of what their life would have been, I think Howard was realistic enough to know that he wouldn't be able to change the world before it broke something in Steve. Because I don't think that Steve would've been able to live with the permanent shroud of secrecy and expectation that would've been upon the both of them.
> 
> I hope this doesn't offend anyone and am sorry if it does.


	10. Most consider it rude to stalk people

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luka deals with the aftermath of her first meeting with Captain Steven Rogers, someone from her past shows up, and Tony Stark is...well, Tony Stark.
> 
> One of these days I'm going to end up strangling the man for pulling this stuff on me. I swear, this wasn't how I'd planned this story going. Trust Tony Stark to _do what he wants_ to quote someone else.

________________________________________

Luka dropped her keys on the table with a sigh, fingers twitching as her heart ached for what once was and could never be restored even if the life was returned. Behind her, the wards automatically reoriented themselves, taking into account her physical state and the state of what was in the immediate vicinity to create stronger protection than she normally would’ve allowed. Generally, she preferred not to use so much magical energy to protect herself, knowing that there was the slightest chance that it could be seen or felt by those of the Realms.

This night, she allowed the exception feeling that she would actually need the added security and protection.

Ever since leaving the restaurant, she’d had the oddest feeling that someone was following after her. Not close enough for her to find or even read their intentions, but there had definitely been someone there. And while it wouldn’t be enough to keep Anthony out if he truly desired to speak with her - not much did these days, but it would keep her safe through the night from serious threats. Even from the mutant kind.

Yes, she was aware of their existence.

It wasn’t like she could be truly ignorant of them when those in certain branches of the government put up loud cries against them, not all of those cries unjustified. The amount of mistrust and doubt that surrounded them always reminded her that she needed to be careful. Even if she, like Jack, did not care about them one way or the other, she knew that she had to watch her every word and step. If there was one thing she had learned from Abraham, it was that one should judge a person by their actions – not by who or what they were.

Besides, who was she to judge them when she had a more dangerous, a more deadly secret?

Yet, there was something else going on inside of her, emotions and feelings she could not describe or understand fully.

Weariness of a more than physical nature swamped her. For all of her seeming high spirits at work and around her friends, she was not as well emotionally as she pretended to be. Nor was she as physically strong as she should be – and she knew that Janet suspected something. It had been extremely difficult to avoid a full examination for the past few months.

With S.H.I.E.L.D. in the loop, they had been spending more time with the agents, training them and running them through all that they had found. Instead of working in the office on translations or energy conservation reports, she was in the classroom. Answering questions and giving detailed lectures on the worlds they visited and the things they’d discovered, it was as exhilarating as it was exhausting.

She had spent more time in their company than with her people and she was beginning to feel that burnout from shielding her mind from them.

Among those in Home World Security, she had not had to hide what she could do. Jack made it quite clear that he would tolerate no bigotry in his office. He didn’t care what you were so long as you did your job, did it well, and didn’t act out farther than his patience allowed. While there were very few who knew who she was – Carter had not been informed of the truth – most figured her mother had been some kind of mutant, her father being too well known.

While she knew that it bothered Jack to keep this secret from one who had served on his team and was a friend, she held firm. A woman who would hand over the only affective weapon they had against the replicators had no business knowing the truth. Because not only had she handed it over to her, allowing the machine to work on it, but she had ignored his orders to terminate the replicated Carter immediately when it became obvious that something else was going on.

Yes, they had been lucky to find the weapon on Dakara to defeat them and Carter had worked hard to get it working – but that certainly did _**not**_ help those in Altera...Atlantis as she supposed she must really think of it, who desperately needed the aid the weapon had been.  They were fighting a battle at two ends and without a way to replicate ZedPMs, they were struggling.  There was only so much their hidden Orii could do without giving himself away.

They had only barely managed to keep the wraith and the arrival of Atlantic on Earth’s soil two years ago under wraps.

S.H.I.E.L.D. was another matter entirely. Thor’s arrival had necessitated many changes in the way they did business. In their communications and many of their missions, they were now required to invite the agents along in the hopes of bettering their relationship. Yet there was one detail that many overlooked – the lack of trust between them. This was no small matter and could not be downplayed, no matter how much both sides wished that they could.

If it had only been that, she could’ve dealt with it easily.

Stress because of a dual life was not an unknown to her.

Point of fact, she thrived on stress and tight deadlines. It was something that the All Father had been fond of taking advantage of, waiting until the last possible moment to inform her of a situation and telling her to fix it. It had been that way when she had been his servant, his blood brother, and as the orphaned child raised in the palace.

But this?

These feelings that clouded her mind and choked her thoughts? No. This…this was not normal stress that was affecting her. Words – like magic – had often been her refuge and defense and yet…yet now she was robbed of the ability to even express herself. If she forced herself to examine the situation fully, she knew she’d find the answer in the one thing she had avoided examining for fear of what it meant in the long run.

The horrible truth of the matter was quite simple. The answer to her dilemma lay in the bond with Anthony, something she had finally accepted was going to be a permanent part of her life. The bond with Anthony had never been so alive, so vibrant, and she could feel it demanding a full answer from her – one she could not give for she did not recognize the question being asked of her. She was going to have to talk to him, explain to him in simple words exactly what the bond meant, what it entailed.

It was a conversation she was not looking forward to.

Emotionally exhausted…if she had describe her feelings at that particular moment in time, she would have to use that psychological idea even if it didn’t fully fit the situation she found herself in. As much as she appreciated seeing Steven alive and well after seventy years of his being lost and frozen, looking into his eyes after he’d read that letter from Howard made her wish that he’d just remained buried deep within the ice and snow until even the serum couldn’t preserve him and he joined Howard.

Because she could feel the pain of losing Abraham all over again as she felt Steven’s pain ghosting along her skin, reading it in his eyes.

Scrubbing her eyes, she closed them, trying to not hear him but unable to evade his voice. Why hadn’t she recognized Abraham for who he was before it was to late for them? It wasn’t as if knowing that he was Sigyn would’ve destroyed who and what Abraham was. Far from it for it would have added something to him, not detracted his own life and soul. Merely knowing that his soul was that of Sigyn’s would have only returned to him his immortality.

He would still have been her beloved Abraham.

Forgoing her usual hot cocoa with milk, she trudged into the bedroom and kicked off her shoes. Meticulously, she picked them up and put them away, changing her clothes before opening her jewelry box. The familiar gold band glinted in the moonlight as she picked it up, rubbing it with her fingers. Placing it on her left ring finger, she felt the familiar weight and comfort of it. Even after all this time, she remembered what it meant and how she felt upon receiving it – and how it had hurt her to have to hide it away when she had gone into that camp. Remembered when she’d first been given it, knowing that it was both an engagement and marital band and not caring.

It was the promise that mattered to her, that she and Abraham would be united.

Falling into bed, she could hear a familiar lecture to brush her teeth and wash her face before falling to sleep. That if she didn’t clean herself, she would feel horribly out of sorts and be cranky for much of the day. Of course, the voice was correct. It usually was when it sounded like a nagging parent. Luka just couldn’t bring herself to care. Curled up into a small ball, she clutched her hand tightly. Keeping it close to her chest, she released a shuddering sigh.

 _Abraham, oh how I miss you. I need you, now more than ever. What am I to do_?

Because even if she was open to the possibility of a new relationship, it did not always translate into true readiness.

Outside, the figure waited in the shadows, a cigarette in the corner of his lips. The dark hair glinted in the light that occasionally pierced the darkness. As he leaned against the wall, he couldn’t help but wonder how much of the person he’d once known remained under the skin of the doctor. Of all the things that this woman who was calling herself Luka Erskine was, human was not a word that rested easily upon her.

And yet, she had seemed far more human than he remembered her ever being.

That could, he knew, be as a result of her female looks. Deny it though some would, he had seen to much to deny his senses. In his over one hundred years of living, females generally had a fragile look to them. There were some exceptions to the rule but not many. He’d lived with many women of different cultures and body types but they all had that same fragility to them.

Tapping the cigarette against his knee, he exhaled and thought back to when Chuck had told them that Dr. Trask had found another mutant to hunt. Eyes half closed, he could only snort at the reminder of the anthropologist Bolivar Trask. Of being reminded about what he was capable of doing, what he had already tried, and how he had misused his son and daughter out of bigotry.

He’d have remained that way but Storm had a picture of the gal in question that send a shock of recognition through him. As he’d been studying her, trying to remember anything that might spark a memory, a furious discussion had swirled around him. _Gunshots and the scent of blood, the jungle closing in around him, and a steady voice in his ear. The intense heat as he walked forward, machete glinting in the light as it cut through the foliage, ducking as he heard a warning shot. Interpreting what the natives were saying as they surrounded him, a dry voice guiding him out of that hot spot and into relative safety_.

It was only that smarmy voice pushing its way into his mind, forcing himself out of his memories, that pulled him into the debate, though it wasn’t much of one by that point. Slim had wanted to find her first and bring her into the fold. At least until they had discovered what her ability was. No matter what her magic shows revealed, she was not like the Scarlet Witch. Ever the cautious gentleman, he hadn’t even considered that the woman might be something different. Then again, neither had Chuck – and he had spoken to Dr. Strange at length about Luka Erskine.

And hadn’t that been a kick in the pants that the so called Sorcerer Supreme hadn’t known who or what – or even **_how_** – she did what she did.

On the other side – the more reasonable side as far as he was concerned – was Storm. It was her opinion that they couldn’t just announce themselves to her – especially since she had friends in the military. Though they had reached a tentative peace – meaning that neither side was trying to destroy the other – they were unsure of their footing. The last thing they wanted was to cause strife to break the peace.

“You know, most consider it rude to stalk people.”

“Doesn’t stop you, Tin Man.”

Tony scoffed, deeply offended. Of all people, he had thought that **_this_** man would be able to discern the difference between the two metals. “The suit is no more tin than it is iron.”

“Either way,” a sound filled the air. One Tony only knew of from hearing it over surveillance, “It won’t hold against these babies.”

He just looked at him. “Put those away, Wolverine. I’m no enemy here.”

“Your suit makes you an enemy.”

“And your interest in my friend makes you mine. But I haven’t pulled a weapon on you.”

Dropping the cigarette, he ground it into the pavement. “You wouldn’t have made it that far, rich boy. What’s your interest?”

Tony was many things. Genius was one of them – but he was also reckless and a gambler. The combination had gotten him where he was. Looking him in the eye, he leaned back with his arms folded across his chest. A cocky smile quirked his lips, “You tell me your reason and I’ll tell you mine.”

Logan had to give the guy credit – he had guts. It took a lot to stand up to a guy who was the best at what he did. And was a walking weapon more lethal than anything the military had come up with. The closest thing anyone had to a weapon that could truly incapacitate him was Magneto – and he wasn’t exactly one that they’d be doing parlay with.

But this guy wasn’t the kind Logan trusted easily…if at all.

Familiar footsteps came towards them, “Jeannie.”

“I thought I’d find you here,” she murmured, looking at Tony curiously. “Have you spoken to her?”

He cocked his head to the side, “When? Chuck only let me go an hour ago.”

“What is wrong with Luka?” Tony asked, studying the redhead. “And don’t say there’s nothing going on. He wouldn’t be here if that was true.”

Jean turned to him, her voice low. “It is none of your concern, Mr. Stark.”

“These aren’t the droids you’re looking for?” he quipped, making a motion with his hand. “Don’t try that Jedi trick with me. I’m not in the mood.”

 _Tell him, Jean. He may be the key to getting her help_.

 _Yes, Professor_. At his calming and soothing voice, she immediately stopped trying to get into Stark’s head.

Not that it had been working, she’d never met anyone who had such shields protecting their mind. It was almost as if he was sharing a part of it with someone else for not even Emma Frost had such strong mental shields. She did not think of the Professor for his mind was one that she had never tried to touch, except for when she’d been the Phoenix. And Emma…Jean shied away from the thought of the woman, still uneasy around her after discovering what had happened between the beautiful woman and her husband.

The mental affair the two had carried on which Scott still insisted meant nothing for nothing physical had happened between them. He could not understand that it did not matter. He’d shared his mind, his thoughts, and his emotions with another. Such a sharing of minds should have been between them, not him and another. Why could he not understand that?

“Have you ever heard of a man named Bolivar Trask?”

“The anthropologist?” he flatly asked. “We’ve met.”

And it had not gone over well when the man had attacked his intelligence, saying that his building the arc reactor was a lie to cover up the truth. Though he had nothing against mutants, finding them as interesting as he found the Hulk, thinking about the man's accusations made his hackles rise. Especially when he said that there was no way he could do such a thing. Maintaining that no one could be that gifted and smart naturally.

Claiming that he could **_not_** have survived what happened in Afghanistan without being a mutant – or some freakish experiment of Howard Stark’s. The heart surgery – unfortunately, he couldn’t keep that from the press, not after his performance upon his return – in a cave, with primitive tools and no way to sanitize or keep the wound clean, should’ve killed him.

It hadn’t really damaged his business as much as his shutting down his munitions plants had but it had hurt his reputation for a time.

“In 2009, he made an attempt to capture Dr. Erskine.”

“Not to mention myself,” he said. “What happened to prevent him from trying again?”

“She went underground,” Jean said. “By getting a job at Home World Security shortly after this occurred, she pretty much guaranteed that she would have protection from him. The man may be irrational in his hatred but he is not stupid. He could not risk going after someone in that position, not when they would have gone through extensive background checks. And she works directly with Jack O’Neill. There are very few people who could tangle with the man and walk away unscathed.”

Tony had met the man for all of five seconds but in those seconds, he’d learned enough to be impressed by him. “What changed?”

“Nothing,” Logan said.

“Then you wouldn’t be here,” he pointed out.

“Logan is telling the truth,” Jean quietly said. “Nothing has changed. We are just watching out for her because something is happening, something has changed in the world since the visit of Thor in New Mexico.”

That was something Tony wasn’t supposed to know about, something he was pretty sure that the so called X-Men weren’t supposed to know about. But he wasn’t a man of intuition and resources for nothing. He figured that Professor X was the same way, always alert to anything that could bring harm to what was his. And when the offer had been made to become a consultant for S.H.I.E.L.D, he had done his own research. There was no way he was going to be left out of the loop.

S.H.I.E.L.D. may have been in charge of keeping Thor’s unplanned visit under wraps but there was some other organization that had given them the tools and personal they needed to prepare for future ones.

This was something he wanted **_in_** on, even if it meant working with the government again. While he wouldn’t make or design weapons other than his suit, there were other things he could make and do for them that would not be seen as him going back on his word. Though he knew that some might not see it that way, he could not ignore what he knew.

Besides, he **_really_** wanted to meet Bruce Banner.

“And you think it could have something to do with Luka?”

“Not sure,” Logan said, “But I don’t take chances.”

Tony recognized it for the concession it was – even if it wasn’t much of one. He would accept it and keep his end of the deal. There was a feeling that he’d be seeing a **_lot_ ** more of this man, if not the other members of the X-Men. It was something he wasn’t sure if he looked forward to or not, mainly because he wasn’t sure he wanted someone with Professor X’s abilities anywhere **_near_** his mind. Still, it would make his life more interesting – though Pepper would not be happy about it. “I accepted her challenge to figure out how she does her magic – and became her student.”

“She does not take students,” a voice spoke from the darkness. From around them and passed through them, “I have tried for years to convince her to work with me. What makes you so different than I?”

Dr. Strange was suddenly in their midst.

Only Jean’s hand on Logan’s arm stopped him from striking. Even if he could easily defend himself, it wouldn’t stop him from getting hurt first. Logan had wounded the man when they hadn’t known who he was. When they thought he was another mutant hater who had come to harm them, not help them. It was only upon the word of Emma that they needed him to battle the Scarlet Witch when she’d lost control that they had let him in.

In truth, she wished that she didn’t have to restrain him. There was something about the older man that unnerved her. A leashed menace that he had within, his ease with the knowledge of the arcane, and the fact that he was one of the main beings who called for her death when she had been possessed by the spirit of the Phoenix…well, they all added up to a man that she would never like.

“I’m Tony Stark,” he shrugged.

The man leaned closer, studying him intently. His salt and pepper hair glinting in the light. “Not good enough,” he finally said, his eyes glittered strangely in the night.

“Works for her, so I really don’t care.”

“By all that is holy, what have you gotten yourself into now, Anthony?”

“Not me this time, princess – this is all you.” Stepping away from the trio, he moved towards her, examining her. “Find another pea?”

Tilting her head, “Why? Are you going to find me a nasty Queen with a weakling son who can’t stand up for himself?”

“I could find you a better mattress,” he said. “Because I’m no prince.”

“Or you could take this little brawl of yours away from here,” she said, not entirely sure she believed him that all of this had to do with her. While she couldn’t deny the honesty in his words, she hadn’t **_done_** anything – lately – to warrant such attention.

An aborted move caught her eye and she turned, startled by the flash in the darkness. _Knives in the dark, tracing patterns along his skin, taking chunks out of his flesh. Laughter in the heat, a haze clouding his mind as drugs filtered into his body through tubes. He tried to hold in the magic – the magic that begged for release to work upon those that were causing the harm. The wall of the prison cell being blown in and two men standing there – one with strange claws glinting in the sunlight, a reddish tint on them and a feral smile on his face._

“Wolverine?”

“Jacob’s daughter,” he greeted, though his nose told him a different story. There was a comingling of smells, different scents coming from her that confused him as he tried to catalogue them. She was not just Jacob’s daughter. The scent of him was too strong to be denied – she **_was_** Jacob. Another scent hit him and he had to stop the head shake as it filtered through his mind,momentarily confusing him because of the implications of it.

No, not quite Jacob.

The smell and the look about her was the scent of someone far older…one he’d only known briefly when he escorted Captain America back to the states. It had been so unusual, he had automatically taken note of it and searched others for the same scent, never finding it. Though his face remained impassive, he searched through his memory for her name.

What was it? Pushing past the discomfort, he pealed back the layers and though about serving and helping the great boy scout. Gerta, no. Gretel, no. Greta, that was it. Greta Erskine. But how was this even possible? Even if he could explain it as her being his mother, the scent was not diluted as it was in the descendents of other people he’d met over the years.

The change effected by her was not the same that Morph and Mystique could do. While their morphing ability was almost perfect, there was always a tiny flaw in their image. Some part of their own character bled into the image, showed through in some fashion. He could still smell them underneath the change if he focused hard enough.

This was not morphing. This…this was different on another level entirely. On a…how would Beast describe it? The change was on a cellular level, actually changing her into this other being. In other words, he uncomfortably thought, she could affect a change so completely that there was no sign that it wasn’t her real image.  

She **_became_** another being entirely, almost recreated.

“Yeah, my dad said you were in on his rescue.”

It was a relief to hear her voice because what she was or was not, confused his mind and senses.  And made him want to hit something, which was never a good idea even if it made him feel better and focused on the hitch in her voice. A hitch that was so low, it was rather nonexistent. Logan wondered if it meant anything to their search. Because contrary to what Slim thought about him, he did think beyond the next drink and the next fight. And he knew that something more than Thor and the events of two years ago lay hidden in the secrets she was keeping.

“O’Neill not add anything?”

“He speaks less than you do,” she pointed out. A wry smile crossed her face, “At least when it comes to some things. Or so my father has told me. I’ve always found him willing to share, so long as I bottom line my questions. Is there a reason that you are all here?”

“As pretty boy told you – you.”

She frowned, looking at Anthony for more information. He merely shrugged, not wanting to tell their story. With a sigh, she gestured behind her. “We’d best get inside before someone calls the authorities. I am not one to look forward to my boss’s extreme disapproval of my activities. He still hasn’t forgiven me for your actions in bringing me into the eye of the media the day you got back, Anthony.”

“Should I care?”

“Yes,” she retorted, opening her door. “It has lead to quite a few interesting stories that we really do not care for dealing with. Our publicity department is not up to the standards of your own. Dr. Strange, I had not expected to see you again. The Ancient One have anything new to say about me?”

“As ever, he finds you a source of constant annoyance, Dr. Erskine.”

The stiff way he said it made her giggle. Oh, if he only knew, the Ancient One would not be merely annoyed about her presence. He’d be well and truly filled with all of those lovely and terrifying emotions that he decided to give up on centuries ago.

“And you are?” she asked.

“Jean Gray,” for some reason she did not add Summers to her name and she could feel Logan’s look at her silence. At the moment, his confusion about her silence was inconsequential. There was something about this house. It felt like someone had dropped her into a vast, empty area of nothing. She could no longer feel anyone’s presence in her mind. It was silent in a way that not even the Professor’s machine could manage.

The lack scared her though she was careful to keep her face blank.

“Den’s through there,” Luka gestured and watched her walk beside Logan into the room. Shutting the door behind Anthony, she rested a hand on his arm and waited until he met her eyes. “Bottom line it for me, what’s is this all about?”

“Apparently, Trask is after you – and they think you might know something about New Mexico’s weirdness.”

“Bolivar Trask?” she repeated the name, shaking her head. “Daniel’s opinion on him is even worse than his opinion on Budge.”

“And the second?” he pressed, seeing Strange step back into the hall to watch them.

“Not my division,” she demurred. “That would be S.H.I.E.L.D.”

His eyes studied her, taking in how old she looked for someone who wasn’t that much younger than he was. And he also noted her weary, drained look. A look he’d only ever seen on her face twice – after her father’s death and at his dad’s funeral. It reminded him of the unanswered questions she’d been dodging for years.

Questions from him and others, he was not as oblivious to her troubles because of their association as he pretended to be. He knew full well that the press was hounding her for answers about them. She handled them adroitly for one who was not press born and he wondered if she was a mutant before once again dismissing the idea. While he knew that there were several powerful mutants who could do some of what she did – the Scarlet Witch being an example – mutation couldn’t explain everything about her.

“Should you even be up?”

“You should’ve thought about that before bringing your emotional confusion into my area.”

“You started it,” he pointed out. “Forgive my bluntness but you looked like someone threw you into a blender after running you over with a reaper.”

“As ever you are the picture of male flattery. It’s a wonder you have such an impressive reputation with the ladies with a tongue like that,” she drawled.

“Luka, it’s not the tongue alone that has granted me the reputation – and I’d be more than happy to give you a demonstration.” he teasingly warned.

“I thought you said she was your teacher,” Dr. Strange said before she could reply. It was quite obvious from the stiff tone in his voice and his posture that he disapproved of the liberties she allowed Anthony to take. Clearly, the man knew nothing of the Starks for all that he was a New Yorker and must’ve heard all about them. He was going to have a very painful awakening if he continued to think along those lines because Starks did not bend for anyone – or anything.

They bent all to their will whether the object knew it or not.

“I’ve always had fantasies about being the naughty student disciplined by the stern teacher,” he shot back.

“Be that as it may, Dr. Strange is correct. There are certain lines that not even I dare to cross – that is one of them. So, shall we join the others?”

Leaning closer, he whispered, “You do realize that I nothing turns me on more than a challenge, don’t you?”

“Stark!” The word came out sounding like a threat and he winked.

“I’ll turn that into a promise one of these days. But not right now, princess.”

Both of them watched him walk into the room before he turned to her, one of his eyebrows arched in disbelief. “That is who you have chosen to pass your secrets onto, Dr. Erskine?”

“If I recall correctly from my dad’s words on you, you were no better. After all, did you not chose to ignore your dying father in favor of self-important isolation? Thinking that you were above sharing your grief and healing with your family’s help?”

“You dare much, child.”

A dark laugh escaped her. “Some would argue that I don’t dare enough, Strange, not by a long shot when one considers what I am capable of.” Entering the room, she gestured to the couch. “Please, talk amongst yourselves while I change into something a little less comfortable for this conversation.”

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I **really** hope I got Wolverine's voice and attitude right. Logan, I love you to death but you make things _way_ to difficult for me. Because he insisted on being here and it makes sense since he worked with Captain America in WW 2, so I had no reason to deny him.
> 
> And I'm sorry for Sam Carter fans but the way she helped Replicator Carter and ignored Jack's order really bothers me. I do like her - just as she was in the earlier seasons. I **hate** what they did to her character in later seasons, making her almost all about trying to get Jack or being in relationships with various men. Is that really how women are perceived? That in order to be happy, we need a guy?
> 
> Sorry, rant over.


	11. The others were an unexpected complication

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm worried about the next few chapters, so if they suck terribly, let me know.

________________________________________

Luka went into her room and breathed deeply, fingers twitching nervously. Light danced along her tips, bright greens and blues revealing her turmoil. Everything within was screaming to flee, get away from this. She couldn’t deal with all of them, not now – not when she was so raw.

So exposed.

But as she told Anthony, Jack had become a father to her. No matter the situation she was in, he wouldn’t want her to retreat without a plan. _Luka_ , she could almost hear him scold. His voice strong and confident, _if you leave now, you’ll be doing it in a panic. You would be exposed and raw, an object to be harmed. I know that you are stronger than that – you just need to believe in yourself_.

His voice calmed her racing thoughts and she pondered her situation. She hadn’t been expecting this company. Shaking her head, she retracted part of it, knowing that she should’ve expected Anthony’s visit. While more than partially shielded from each other because she had insisted that he learn to do that, he stubbornly resisted fully shielding himself from her. Her words went in one ear and out the other. May be he considered this connection to be part of his stuff and he didn’t want her to mess with it because it would no longer be solely his.

If anything, she was surprised that he’d waited this long to visit her. The tension and turmoil she’d been feeling had been rising steadily for some time. Had he come before, she could have dealt with him.

But the others…they were an unexpected complication.

And Wolverine was even more of a complication. There was no way for her to obfuscate his senses. She knew that he’d picked up on the otherworldly scent that she would always have, not being totally from Earth. Years ago, when they’d worked together in Vietnam, Jacob’s scent had been catalogued and logged into memory – as had Greta’s. Even if there had been, it was too late for that now. His eyes had held an awareness that would need answering soon. And he’d saved her. She wouldn’t repay that with betrayal of his mind because she knew that would be the only way to prevent him from seeing the truth.

There **_was_** a reason she avoided anyone she’d met in the past who had mutant abilities. They always saw more even if they didn’t always know what they were seeing and sensing.

Rubbing the back of her neck, she made a decision. Sinking onto the bed, she reached out and picked up the phone, “Jack? If you could fake an emergency that needs my attention in about an hour, I’d appreciate it.”

“ _Need some on-site, off-site time as well_?”

That was one of the things she **_really_** loved about working with him. He never wasted time by asking unnecessary questions, knowing that he could trust her on these matters. Of course, that was partly because he had her house under constant surveillance due to the press’s interest in her. But still it was nice to know that he had her back when she needed it covered.

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble,” she rubbed the back of her neck again. Instead of the knots loosening, she felt them tightening even more. She couldn’t keep everything bottled up safely for much longer. “I could do with the time away from all of this.”

“ _All right_ ,” there was the sound of rustling papers. “ _One environmentally risky emergency for our only ecologically minded scientist on the way. Should I send anyone in particular_?”

“No, but thanks.”

“ _Don’t mention it until the briefing_.”

“Yes, sir.” Though mocking in sound, there was a deep sincerity in her words. Because she knew he was risking a whole lot on faking an emergency to help her out. This wasn’t just her career on the line – it was putting at risk his and possibly Daniel’s because she knew if he was there, he would want in on this. He would be lying or even creating a situation that would actually necessitate her presence. “I may not say it a lot, Jack, but thanks.”

“ _For what_?” and there was the distinct sound of pure worry in his voice.

“For being here for me, even when I don’t always think I need you.”

“ _Right, you have thirty minutes and then I’m sending in the cavalry_.”

“That won’t be necessary,” she replied.

 _“Clock’s ticking, Luka, so don’t waste it_.”

Shaking her head, “All right, dad.” Hanging up on his sputtering protests, she changed and started out the door when the sound of her ring hitting the knob reminded her of its presence. _Thank the Nons no one noticed it_. That would’ve opened a whole can of worms she wasn’t fully prepared to deal with. Pulling it off, she reluctantly switched it to her right hand. It felt foreign, alien there because she hadn’t worn it there in years. But still…she could feel the comfort and strength of it.

Something she knew she’d need as she opened the door and drew around herself all of the armor she’d worn on Asgard.

Though they were not her enemies, these were not her friends – not even Anthony held that title.

Entering the room, she noticed that positions had been drawn though Anthony remained in a curiously neutral place. It was obvious from the looks he was giving Dr. Strange that something else had happened but she could tell that it was nothing that he couldn’t handle and let it slide. Anthony was nothing if not acerbically resourceful and she wasn’t going to infringe upon his right to defend himself – unless it proved absolutely necessary. Somehow, she doubted it would prove to be so.

“Well, now that we’ve all made it perfectly obvious that we have drawn up lines on opposing sides of things, perhaps I can hear the fullness of the truth. What exactly does Dr. Trask wish with me?”

“We were hoping you could tell us that, Dr. Erskine.”

“Meaning you wish to know of my rumored mutant abilities, doubting that what I have done in my magic shows is applied sciences? That I, through hard work and access to my grandfather’s notes, could have cracked some of the secrets of chaos science?” She sat down and crossed her legs, linking her hands together as they rested against her knee. Titling her head, “What makes you think that I’m any more inclined to tell you what I don’t tell others who have asked? Others who have known me far longer, have not spied on me, nor have invaded my privacy as you have? Or as you are trying to, Mrs. Summers?”

Jean started, eyes wide with shock. Hearing her married name and not the one she had offered surprised her. Was the woman then a mind reader?

A thin smile crossed Luka’s lips. “No trick to it, Mrs. Summers. One does not need the ability to read minds in order to read a newspaper. Nor does one need special talents to read a report. Your actions as the Phoenix did cause quite a stir at the office. Be grateful that Jack trusts Wolverine’s judgment when it comes to certain things. His standing by you spoke volumes for your character.”

“S’true, Jeannie,” he quietly said when she looked at him. “But there’s more, isn’t there?”

Shifting just a little, she inclined her head towards him. “You did not think that I would be entirely unaware of the interest that your band has shown towards me? Both you and Dr. Strange are entirely aware of just how strong my shields are. Why the surprise that I am aware when someone takes an interest in me, be it harmless or prurient?”

“Your shields are not normally this high.”

“You know that they are not, Anthony. The level of energy expended is much too great to keep them this high. But I felt more than a little uneasy this night. Had I known that it was because of Wolverine watching over me, I would not have been so paranoid. Still, this situation is what it is. And while I admit that I had not thought that Trask would be a reason for such attention, I am not unaware of the way I am watched. I do apologize that you are unable to properly read me but I do believe that had your good Professor just extended an invitation to me, he would not find me to be against it.”

“He didn’t want to worry you,” she replied, her gaze thoughtful.

“Thus his solution to avoid worrying me is to set spies upon me? Yes, I can see that doing so is a much better and more reasoned response. I feel safer already,” the scorn literally dripped from her words.

“Are you a mutant then?” Stephen asked, though there was something about that answer that felt wrong. Her powers weren’t as specific as a mutant’s. They were more akin to what the Ancient One and the Phoenix possessed. But she was not of the ancient bloodline of the gods of old, nor was she an elemental being of pure energy.

Still, he couldn’t deny that something about that solution felt…right when it came to her.

“No,” she replied, looking him right in the eye. “I’m an extra-terrestrial, seeking refuge from my home world. Please do not refer to me as an alien for that implies that there is something inherently wrong with my nature. That I in some way am strange and unnatural when I am in fact quite normal for who and what I am.”

And that answer fit the strange scent that had been permeating through the collection of scents Logan had gathered over the years. It made perfect sense to him though he could see the others did not feel this way. From outside, he heard the tiniest of sounds and glanced towards the window. Stark’s position on the seat by the window made it difficult to truly make anything out but he thought he saw a shadow moving across the lawn.

“Would you be serious about this? We are talking about a threat to your life,” Stephen pointed out. “If we are to help you at all, we need you to trust us.”

“Why would I trust you?” she asked. “Over the years that I’ve been in contact with you, Dr. Strange, have you ever once done anything to prove to me that you are worthy of trust? Have you ever proven to the world that you are more than a charlatan?”

“Have you?” he snapped, clearly more than a little irritated. While nothing more or less than what others had said of him, _**she**_ knew the truth. As he could feel the power flowing through her, he knew that she could feel his own. True, he couldn’t decipher hers but that did not make it any less true. She knew he was no charlatan but the real deal.

“Yes,” she replied calmly. Her lids lowered and she stared at him through them, knowing what was on his mind. Knowing that until he could accept some of what she said without demanding absolute proof from her, she would not trust him. Unlike Howard Stark, Dr. Strange was a powerful man who dealt in the absolutes of the laws of magic. Cause and effect had to be clearly and precisely delineated.

Howard had not been so trapped. It was the reason he was able to accept what she was so easily. And was the reason Anthony could not figure it out. Born into a cynical age, until he had definite proof before his eyes, Anthony would not fully believe what his senses were telling him. “Though many have not cracked the entire code of how I do what I do, many have come close to the answers by using physics and chemistry. Is everything all right, Wolverine?”

“There’s something outside.”

“Do what you feel you must.”

“And if it ain’t pretty?”

She smirked, “None of what you do well is pretty. Isn’t that what you always say?” Her spine straightened, feeling something brush her mind. A touch she hadn’t felt in…well, in quite a long time, “Delay that order, Wolverine. I shall take care of this situation myself.”

 _Mother-father…I need your help_.

Though he could not understand the change, Wolverine did as ordered. There was something in her voice that he automatically responded to. He could feel the weight of Jeannie’s look, felt Strange’s study, and ignored it. Flexing his hands restively, he watched Stark follow her out with narrow eyes. The man seemed to blend into her shadow as though he’d always been there.

“I don’t like this,” Strange muttered.

“Anything you do?”

“That man has no business being privy to the secrets of her trade.”

“And yet, there’s doubt in your voice.”

Strange glared at him but couldn’t deny it. The way Stark had just fallen into step with her, so easily, and so completely…it spoke of a reciprocated trust that not many could find. He had never fully given in and allowed the previous Sorcerer Supreme access to his mind. But this…this said that they had dropped all boundaries between each other.

Dropped them and just believed that the other would be there, he could also see that neither realized it. Though they had faith in each other, they did not realize how deep it went. He wondered about how it could have come about because it could only partially be explained by the student-teacher bond between them. Yes, he was ignorant on some things concerning Stark, but he knew Luka.

And the woman did not trust easily. This bond had to have been fully forged in death and he wondered if what Trask had mistakenly thought was Stark’s mutation had actually been the bond helping him.

“What is it?” Jean asked, seeing Logan tense up.

“Death.”

________________________________________

Luka walked to the door and opened it, aware that Anthony had followed her. For the moment, she was not concerned with him. He would not interfere unless he felt it absolutely necessary. What did trouble her was the sound in Hela’s voice. The goddess of the dead was anything but emotional. To hear any kind of emotion in her voice was more than a little nerve-wracking. Her ability to shunt her emotions to the side is one of the reasons she had been an excellent ruler and judge over the dead. Only one being in the entire cosmos surpassed her talent at keeping everything locked tightly away – Heimdall.

 _Queen Hela, though I thank you for the sentiment of bygone days, I am not your parent_. It was a reflexive comment.

 _No matter the cycle, you are always my mother-father_. In her reproach was a gentle, teasing sound. _But there is danger infiltrating my Realm, one of which you know the touch of_.

The words of Jacob came back to her and her hands clenched together, feeling those icy cold hands at her throat once again. _Hello again, Mrs. Erskine. I have news of your husband. Ready to hear it_? Hearing the voice, the harsh smash of his hand against her face rose unbidden.  She shivered, feeling the icy breath ghost across her skin.

With effort, she controlled her breathing, though she could do nothing about the racing of her heart. _The mirror in my room, go to it. We will talk once I have rid my house of these unwanted guests_.

 _And the man who shadows you_?

 _Anthony is…an ally of mine. I do not say that I hold him in as much trust as I did his father or the good Captain but he is one I know to be true to the commitments he makes_.

 _As you will_ , there was a tease there. _But there is something familiar about him…is he of the bloodline?_

 _In five counts the shields will drop for ten seconds, so you had best be in my room by then_.

Hela knew that she was being dismissed though not unkindly. Her gaze turned thoughtful as she studied her mother-father and then turned to the man behind her. There was something more than a little familiar about him…the touch of death’s hand always just over him. This was a man well acquainted with death and far more comfortable with it than he should be. _Just be wary of this one. He is not like Abraham_.

“Care to clue me in, Bond girl?”

“Which one?” she idly asked, watching as Hela faded into the darkness. “Real or reinvented?”

Light exploded in the area, blowing the two of them apart.

________________________________________

“What do you mean there’s been an explosion at Luka’s house?!?” Jack snapped, his hand hovering over the phone. He’d been watching the clock since her call, just waiting for her time to be up.

Paul stepped back for a moment, then straightened his shoulders. He hadn’t gotten this job and kept it because of his handsome face and charming manners. “I mean there’s been an explosion at Dr. Erskine’s house. We are lucky there are no fatalities, so something managed to contain the blast.”

“I really don’t care about that right now, Paul. ** _I want to know who thought it would be a good idea to attack my friend_**.” This time, there was no mistaking the harsh iron in his voice, the tone of the black ops specialist.

The major shivered, feeling incredibly sorry for anyone who got in the general’s way. This was a look that he’d never seen other than when Daniel was in trouble, one that promised to burn down cities and tear lives apart until he’d reclaimed that which was lost. Papa Bear was enraged and those in his way would suffer. “S.H.I.E.L.D. is there right now,” he said.

“Why?” Rising to his feet, he reached for his jacket. Pulling it on, he started towards the door. “This is Home World Security’s business, not S.H.I.E.L.D.’s.”

“Tony Stark was there,” he replied, stepping back to let him pass.

Jack uttered a curse as he snapped over his shoulder. “File the transfer papers – Landry can have Home World Security. I’m taking the SGC back.”

“Don’t you think you should think about this more?”

“With the Ba’al clones out there, I’ve been called in more and more to deal with them because I have the most hands on experience with him. Besides, Sara wants to go back home, there’s nothing to think about.”

Paul knew all of this already. Since one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s buildings was on his route, he’d often given her a ride. The pinched look on her face was one he’d gotten used to seeing. It had taken a few days but she finally confided in him. “I am aware but I didn’t think Luka had been thinking of transfer.”

“She’s not,” the harsh bite ended the conversation. Jack got into the car and took off, barely keeping within the parameters of the speed limit. The area Luka lived in was cordoned off with the usual police tape but he saw Coulson in the background, talking to Agent Carter and his lips tightened. If Fury had sent his right hand man into the area, something else must be going on. “Bottom line it for me, Coulson, what happened?” his tone brooked no argument.

Not that the other man would ague with him, he knew better than that. Sharon stiffened beside him, sensing some disrespect in O’Neill’s tone. Phil looked at her and shook his head, “As far as we can tell there was a bomb of some kind.”

“Girl went to check a threat. Must’ve found nothing because she dropped the shields for a moment,” Logan gruffly said. “Explosion happened immediately afterwards – Strange saved us but couldn’t touch her.”

Jack nodded, knowing that Luka’s own power would have pushed away a strange power it saw as a threat. “What did you sense?”

“Machines,” the distaste obvious in his tone. There was also something else there. His eyes shifted towards Coulson and then met Jack’s, indicating that it wasn’t something he wished the Agent to know about.

Narrowing his eyes, his arms folded across his chest. Over the years, he’d learned self-control. With Daniel constantly calming him down and pointing things out that he’d missed on their diplomatic missions, he didn’t have a choice. It had served him well over the years and made things between him and Sara better because he actually _**talked**_ to her now.

But in that particular moment, with fear clouding his mind, he wanted to throw it to the wind. To get down and dirty, get the job done with guns blazing, deal with this threat the way he would have in his black ops days. And it wasn’t an option. With Luka’s life at stake, he couldn’t afford to rush into this without a plan of attack and adequate back-up. “What exactly were you doing here, Wolverine?”

“Heard about a threat,” he said.

“And weren’t skilled enough to stop it,” he snapped.

It was only the long standing respect he held for Jack that kept the claws at bay. The man may not be a mutant but he’d never asked for anything more from anyone that he wasn’t willing to give himself. And he accepted all beings so long as they worked hard, sassed him but were respectful in how they did it, and did the best they could.

Besides, he could vaguely recall the man trying to protect him from the scientists – and being shot because of it. Shot and left for dead, his survival was a pure mystery to Logan. “Can’t stop what you can’t sense, O’Neill.”

Staring into the other man’s eyes, he nodded. “So, what do you know?”

“Trask thinks Luka’s a mutant,” he said, “Tried to take her back in ’09.”

“Any connections to the Trust?” he directed the question towards Coulson but his eyes never left Wolverine’s. There was something else there, something the man wasn’t saying and wasn’t asking – but needed answers anyway.

“He was never in our radar, sir.”

“Of course not,” Jack muttered. His hands fisted in his hair and tugged. Of all the things he had ever expected, a known mutant hater to be the one after Luka that night had not been one of them. The Trust, rogue N.I.D., even Obadiah Stane going after her, yes. Those would have made sense to him. But he should have expected it.

With the way she bent reality to suit her tricks, to some minds, that was the only applicable answer. They had used that very same blindness to suit their needs when necessary. Daniel had warned them against it but even he hadn’t seen any other way to explain her. “Show me everything,” he ordered.

“Sir, I’m not sure that’s wise.”

“Agent Carter, right?” he asked. “Thanks for the concern. I’ve taken it into consideration. If anything happens to me, it’ll be on my head. Wolverine?”

“I don’t like this, sir,” Sharon said to Coulson. Her eyes did not leave the two men as they made their way steadily up the slope. For all his age, there was still strength and agility to the General that she hadn’t expected.

“Neither do I,” he replied. “But I’m not going to interfere. We can advise him and watch his back, but we can’t stop him.”

“Like Fury?” she asked, though she had not really thought so before. She’d often met General O’Neill at functions and been to a few of the classes he was in charge of. He’d never come across as terribly dangerous though she had read his file before. It was s.o.p. after all. His record spoke well of his training but his personality was at odds with it. She’d almost written him off as one of those has been soldiers – until now. His eyes…she hoped she would never become his enemy because no matter how skilled she was, she had a feeling that he was far more deadly and dangerous than she was.

He was just like her Aunt Peggy only twice as deadly.

“Oh, no. No one can stop Fury,” he paused and looked at her, a twinkle in his eyes. Looking back at the General, the moment was gone. He was once more the somber agent they all knew so well. “If we really wanted to stop O’Neill, we call Dr. Jackson. Or Dr. Frasier, she has a way of stopping him cold.”

A laugh escaped her, “Met her. I’m pretty sure she could stop even Fury.”

“Care to wager on that?”

“Barton,” Coulson greeted him. “I don’t want to hear any of this.”

“Twenty,” she muttered.

“Make it fifty and you’ve got a deal.”

“Deal,” she shook his hand.

“What do you know?” Phil asked, looking around. The Widow was not on assignment for the moment, so she should be in the area.

“No one saw anything before the explosion.”

“There are unusual footsteps leading to the house, but not away. Whoever it was, this is not who we’re looking for.”

“Romanoff,” Sharon greeted her with a tense smile. The other woman sharply nodded, keeping her attention focused on Coulson. “Could you tell if they were human or machine?”

Natasha looked at her then, raising an eyebrow coolly. “That is more Agent Barton’s thing than my own.” Her tone implying that this was something Carter should already know. It was quite apparent that she had yet to forget the flirting that Sharon and Clint had engaged in, though everyone knew that she was in a committed relationship with someone. Flirting was just something that she did with those who knew the rules, enjoyed the game, and expected nothing more than the exchange of complimentary words.

“No,” he said when they looked at him. His face was as blank as he could keep it but Natasha’s coldness stung. “It’s the strangest thing, sir. The prints didn’t sink into the ground.”

“Were they small?” he asked, thinking it could’ve been a child. Or someone who had the ability to mimic a child’s size in order to throw them off the trail.

“Normal sized prints,” he replied.

“Animal?”

“Definitely humanoid.”

“Possible magic?”

“Negative, sir. Nothing registered on any of the equipment,” she answered, meaning that it wasn’t magic, alien, or mutant. Or at least not one that they could detect with their equipment, the SGC might have something of a higher caliber that could find what they could not. “I hate to admit it but I’m at a loss.”

“That’s a first.”

“Stark,” her voice glacial.

“Is it Agent or are you still going by Ms. Rushman?” he acidly asked by way of greeting before turning away. Though dangerous, she was no longer his focus or concern. Something had attacked him and his friend and when it got personal, Tony got focused to the exclusion of all else – because it could mean that Pepper or Rhodey were next. “Anything I can do?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” Phil asked, looking at him but also beyond him, trying to see the emergency crew. It was to be hoped that they would be able to sedate the man before he did any damage.

“Heard it and am not interested,” he snapped. “I want to know what happened and if it relates in anyway to me.”

“Though it may surprise you, Stark, not everything has to do with you.”

Natasha’s hand went to her gun, eyes trained on the man who now joined them. Though it didn’t relax, she inclined her head at recognizing him. This was yet another person who unnerved her in a way that she could not explain. Nor appreciate but if there was one thing she was good at, it was hiding, “Dr. Strange.”

“Black Widow,” he returned the greeting.

Tony stared at him as Jean walked up to them, her voice quiet in greeting. “Contrary to public opinion, I know that. But considering the recent excitement generated by my suit, I think I have a right to wonder if this is tied to me.”

“Fair point,” he finally admitted.

“What do you remember?” Coulson asked.

Tony looked at him, his eyes clear and focused for once. “We were talking. I heard a voice in my mind though I could not understand a word that was spoken.”

“Your mind?” Strange asked sharply. This could definitely be a clue. If Stark could remember anything at all, they could be led to the one who had betrayed her into lowering her shields.

“Through the bond I share with Luka, I occasionally pick up on conversations she’s having with others. I don’t listen in unless invited. And yes, she knows. It’s why I have incredibly strong mental shields.” One of his hands went to his head and he sunk to his knees, the color dropping rapidly from his face. “Luka,” between his fingers, blood flowed.

Jean screamed, mind shutting down as pain slammed into her, tearing down her shields.

________________________________________


	12. Disjointed, Fragmented, and Losing Myself Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luka is captured and stuff happens. Possible trigger warning but I doubt it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As these chapters go on, I find myself not being totally satisfied with them. I like them but...it just seems that there's something wrong or missing or something. Still, if it doesn't confuse anyone, I'm satisfied.

________________________________________

 

“What do you really know?”

“Luka’s an alien,” he replied, watching the other man’s face.

Jack stiffened and stared at him, the look as deadly precise as the words he spoke, never letting the other man’s gaze fall. “If you tell anyone, mutant or not, best at what you do or not, I will kill you. I will remove your head from your shoulders and burn your body so that not even ashes remain. And your head will be a trophy on my study wall.”

Logan was not one to fear anyone who was not his equal. And even then, he had no fear of them. He hadn’t feared the Phoenix and her hold over Jeannie, he wasn’t afraid of Magneto even if the man could harm and control him, and he certainly wasn’t afraid of the sentinels. It was one reason he wondered if he’d had his fear gland removed sometime in the past, one of those timelines he couldn’t remember.

But staring at this man, he felt a twinge of fear run down his spine. He knew O’Neill could be ruthless but he’d never had it directed at him. And he hoped it never would again.

“She told us herself,” his voice quiet. “I’m the only one who believed her.”

“And?”

“Lips are sealed.”

Jack stared at him for a moment longer before nodding. No, he wasn’t quite satisfied and he would have a long…talk with Luka when they found her. Because they couldn’t just keep letting others in on the truth. He would let it rest for the moment – but only because there was nothing he could do about it. “Any reason she’d drop the shields?”

“No idea,” he said. Kneeling down, his finger traced a footprint, noting the depth of it. His back stiffened and he turned. Something was not right, something that he couldn’t put his finger on. But his claws extended, feeling the danger. O’Neill was already walking off and he rose, quickly following him.

“Hela?” Jack called into the darkness.

The woman’s profile was the first thing he saw before she slowly faced them. Logan jumped back, startled by the sight before him. By the smell of lavender and roses, of death and rotting flesh that filled his nose as she stepped forward. His mouth opened and closed, unable to form words or even sound. The right side of her face was young, fresh, the skin creamy and smooth, perfect under the dark curtain of hair. An eye of amber glimmered in the moonlight, raking over him, judging him before she focused on O’Neill.

Logan blinked, honestly startled for the eye which he could’ve sworn was a yellowish gold, looked blue.

A smile lit her face but it was odd, cold and yet, strangely welcoming. Teeth on the right shone…but the left side…the left side was blackened. Had gaps and bore the signs of obvious disease. Stingy, gray hair and pockmarked skin, hollowed cheek, and an eye was missing. In another, the socket would have been empty but hers…hers showed a realm he couldn’t quite grasp but recognized somehow. A place he’d seen, may be visited in the past.

Logan couldn’t bring himself to look away from her face, automatically cataloging the differences even as he wanted to deny what he was looking at. This woman…the amalgamation of the living and the dead should not be possible. His mind and senses argued with each other, unable to comprehend the reality before him.

She should not be real.

Yet, he couldn’t deny that she was.

And just what was her connection to O’Neill? The man seemed way too comfortable in her presence for this to be a first time thing. His estimation of the man went up a few notches.

“Jack O’Neill,” the voice flowed like crystal water. Rasped like sandpaper over a harsh surface and Logan winced, dialing back as he’d learned from a young man who’d thought he was a sentinel before accepting that he was merely a mutant. “It has been some time since last we met. And I would say more but time is of the essence. My mother-father is in danger. And the one known as Anthony Stark is in danger because of it.”

“Can you say more?”

Her head shook, sadness in every move. “It is my fault that she is in danger. I never meant for this to happen.”

“For what?”

“He’s back,” she said. “Both of mother-father’s greatest enemies are back, only one is at full strength. I cannot see where the other hides.”

“I know,” Jack’s voice was harsh. Their heads turned towards the sound of the scream.

“Jeannie!” Logan called out, heading back to the front of the house.

Jack turned to address Hela but found her gone. “I will save your mother-father, Hela. This I promise you – if I have to give my own soul to do it.”

 _Be careful the words you use, Jack O’Neill. For on the land of my mother-father, they have greater power than you know_.

________________________________________

_Loki…_

“ _Greta_ ,” a voice insistently called. “ _Greta, you must wake up. The power is surging. It’s growing. You have to wake up and stop it. If you don’t, you will be in greater danger than you already are_.”

Her head felt more than a little wooly as it turned towards the sound, focusing on it. “ _Abraham…_ ” the name a whisper of sound. A hollow, aching cry for comfort and for his strength to be hers. Waves of pain crashed through her, she could see nothing for a moment but a haze of black with red spots coming into and then flashing out of focus.

“ _Yes, though I wish the circumstances were different. Darling, you must awaken. The doctor will return soon_.”

“ _Doctor_?” she repeated, shaking her head minutely. Something was not right…something had happened but not this…this was wrong…but it was right...had to be right. His presence here, this was right. Wasn’t it? No, it was no longer right.  His presence...it couldn’t be right.  He…he had been killed by Hydra. Hadn’t he? Pain shot through her mind, piercing and sharp, pinching her eyes shut, she tried to hold on. To grasp onto Abraham’s warm hand on her own but her hand didn’t want to move. Held down by something, she could hear the sound of beeping in the background.

And whimpered at the sharp sound, eyes closing against the pain.

_Hveðrungr…_

“ _Loki, what is wrong? Has some courtier been unkind to you on this, your name day_?”

Turning in the other direction, her hand fluttered about, tying to reach out. The answer there but falling away again…who was this who spoke so fiercely to her of courtiers and name days? Trapped and bound, she forced her eyes to open. “ _Prince Thor_?”

“ _Must you call me that, Loki?_ ”

“ _Shouldn’t I?_ ”

“ _Who has ill treated you?_ ” the question came, recognizing the tear tracks on her face, the traces she had not been quick enough to hide.

Her eyes drifted shut, unable to remain open. Unable to take the concern in his eyes…not understanding who he was to her. There seemed to be something about him that was not right, that did not belong. Or may be it was she who did not belong. Had she ever belonged? Pain spiked and flared, colors danced and faded away, leaving only darkness behind and she fell into the embrace, seeking sanctuary.

_Loptr…_

“ _Come on, drama beauty. The festival awaits…Oh, I know that look. Out for blood tonight, little Trickster?_ ”

“ _Ashtaroth, I have never been **little** anything. A fact you know full well,_ ” a dark laugh filled the night. She twirled around, blood red gown swirling up and around her ankles before settling down. The golden coins in her hair glinted sharply in the light.

“ _Ah, not true. I do believe you’ve been a flea_ ,” he retorted.

“ _And you an ant under the heel of the mighty Anat_ ,” she smirked.

A pout crossed the handsome face and he swept a hand through his dark hair, sending its already messy locks into further disarray. “ _You said you’d never mention that again.”_

“ _Would you rather she have done to you what she’s done to others who cross her path?”_ it was curiously asked.

“ _Of course not. Life would be pointless if she castrated me – I would rather be dead.”_

She smirked and changed. _“I’m sure she would be happy to oblige you. And I only promised on the basis that you never mentioned the flea incident. Since you broke your word to me, why should I keep mine to you?”_ The male Loki stared at the Orii, looking down upon him. Ashtaroth had **always** despised the fact that in male form, he was naturally taller than him.

 _“Or would you rather I get my payback another way? I’ve always wondered how you’d look as a female.”_ His fingers twirled as his outfit modified before pointing at his friend, a wicked grin fully forming, knowing how much Ashtaroth **hated** being confused with Ashtoreth. It was a feeling he was well acquainted with, hating being compared with the much loved and highly preferred Lóðurr.

Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t have a little fun at Ash’s expense.

His eyes widened and he stepped back, hands raised quickly. _“Nope, I’m good.”_

_“That’s debatable and not only from my point of view.”_

A sigh of relief escaped him, knowing that he would remain as he was. With Loki’s words and expressions, it was sometimes hard to tell which was the joke and which was the reality. One of these days, he was going to crack the code, like a mathematical formula. And then the Trickster would just change things on him just because he was a contrary ass.

It made him the most uncomfortable and yet the most loyal of friends to have because once Loki accepted you into his life in full confidence, not much separated you from him. _“I sometimes wonder about these other viewpoints you speak about.”_

 _“What?”_ he teased, a strange buzzing filled his ears. With effort, he forced himself to breath against the sudden crushing weight in his chest. _“You afraid they’ll spread common sense to you?”_

_“The only thing that spreads from your touch is madness, my friend.”_

_“ **LOKI!** ”_ the loud voice boomed.

And he winced away, the sound crashing in his mind even as he turned with a welcoming grin “ _Aeron,_ ” it wasn’t often that the Furling visited this side of the galaxy. Though he enjoyed the god whose name became synonymous with slaughter, he knew others weren’t so comfortable with him. Eshmoun had the most problem with him, an understandable fact when one remembered that the two’s talents were on opposite sides of the spectrum. _“Done anything particularly bloody lately?”_

An enormous laugh so at odds with what this man did filled the open air and his hand crashed down on both their shoulders. The giant, brunette led them towards his chariot. _“Without my two favorite mischief makers?”_ he asked, an eyebrow raised archly, _“Never.”_

_Silvertongue…_

Gunfire exploded around him as horses thundered past. Even as fear flooded through Jim’s veins, he kept his eyes on his commander. This was not what he wanted nor had expected when he made his promise. But there were things that his code of honor demanded he fulfill. And truthfully, Jaime had never led them astray though he’d sometimes been wrong. His mind had always been sharp and observant, watching and assessing all angles before making a decision.

And while he hated breaking his promise to Abraham, this was one promise to a family he had to keep.

Pain exploded along the left side of his body, along the right. Red filled his eyes as his horse went one way, his body refusing to follow. Refusing to hold on and he met the ground with a sickening crunch, feeling the shock reverberate throughout his entire being. Stars filled his vision of grayed blackness as he sank into unconsciousness, only one thought in his mind – _Jaime had better survive to send the picture to Albert_.

_Skywalker…_

“ _What is all of this, Steven?”_ Greta softly asked, sifting through the piles of pictures strewn around the young man camped on her floor.

Steven breathed out as he put his pencil down, rubbing his cheek restlessly. Nervously, _“They are going to do the procedure tomorrow. And I…I’m actually afraid. I didn’t think I would be.”_

“ _Everyone fears death even if they believe that the afterlife will be better than this one._ ”

“ _Oh, I’m not afraid to die, ma’am_.”

She paused in her search, glancing at him but unable to take her eyes off the finished drawing in her hand. “ _You’re not?_ ” Tribal life lines traced down the left half of the angular face, an unusual pale blue and peach mix, the dark hair of the woman highlighted the alien look of her coloring. Verdant eyes stared into her own, secrets and lies, painful truths and aching loss, filled them and she could not look away. Captivated by his obvious skill, she could feel everything in this sketch that she was unable to in other artists.

 _Lokebrenna_ , the name whispered in her mind.  A name she hadn't heard in years, not since Odin had revealed the truth.  Not since Queen Bestla had revealed that it was the name of her female identity on Jotunheim while Loki was the male name.  It was a name she shuddered away from knowing, from remembering the night.

_The flames that smoldered in the night as she climbed free of the ground.  The great smoke stacks collapsing in, spreading the plague to the soldiers who had harmed her.  Had harmed her children, even as she could hear in her mind the sound of her children.  Their dying cries mingling with the hideous laughter of that being...they rang in her ears as she moved to destroy the complex, to burn it to the ground, hoping to destroy the Red Skull in the chaos.  
_

Hearing his voice, the strange accent of the New Yorker, she returned to the present, listening to him.

“ _No, ma’am. I have always been prepared to sacrifice it all. No, I think what I am afraid of is living,_ ” his words were quiet, thoughtful, - and fearful. His eyes did not leave the picture in her hand.  But he seemed to recognize that she was not totally there, that he was walking along some thin wire over ground and he could not see either side.  He did not know which way to walk.

With effort, she put the picture down with shaking hands. “ _Why?_ ” her voice hoarse.

“ _I do not know if I’ll still be myself. Dr. Erskine told me about Schmidt and what happened to him. How the man changed and became even more twisted, he was no longer a man but thought of himself as a god. I fear that I shall do the same because all of my weaknesses will be gone. I will change into a stronger man_.”

" _You are many things, Steven Rogers, but a being like Schmidt, that you are not capable of becoming.  He seeks his own good, his own profit, to remake the world as he sees fit.  But you?" she shook her head._ “ _You do not.  You are already that strong man, Steven. The only thing that will change is your physical appearance, that which the world sees. How you live that life after the transformation is a success is all up to you_.”

Biting on his lip, he came to a decision. No matter what, he had to know that what he saw was real. That it wasn’t some kind of dream. He needed to hear the truth - and he knew that she needed to speak it.  “ _What do you think?_ ”

“ _It is an unusual woman_ ,” she answered softly.

“ _It is how I saw you_.”

Harsh breath escaped her and she stared at him, seeing nothing but honesty and acceptance. “ _It is how I once looked, back when I was Loki, orphan of Asgard._ ” A strange peace filled her on saying the name, of reclaiming the identity that once was hers. While true that it was no longer her place, the name was still hers, given to her by her mother so long ago.

“ _As in…”_ he couldn’t finish the question.

Shaking her head, she was once more Loki, child of Laufey and Fárbauti, Palace Orphan of Asgard. And once again, his fingers itched for paper and charcoal to sketch her look. “ _Not all things are as they seem, Steven. Though I must admit that I am surprised to see an image of myself with the markings of a Jotun upon my face. I have never looked upon that form with anything other than revulsion for it is the enemy of many. Including your own race_ ,” she titled her head in question.

“ _I do not know anything of the Jotun but that is how I saw yo_ u.”

“ _To earlier minds, it was easier to call us gods than aliens. We offered a viable explanation for why things were the way they were – but you must not tell anyone about this. There is an enemy that I fear who will stop at nothing should he realize that I have started to become whole_.”

“ _Ma’am, does Dr. Erskine know?”_

Once more, she became Greta, wife of the doctor. Tiredness filled her and she ignored it. Ignored the way her limbs seemed to be losing their strength, dragging her back into the darkness. The throbbing behind her eyes grew even as she moved to sit down, the drawing forgotten as her fingers touched the band on her hand. “ _It was he who realized who I was. After so long of fear and darkness, I had a name and soul again. I knew light again._ ”

_Lævísi Loki_

Hurried steps came up the stairs and the door flung open, light filtered into the darkened room. “ _Hurry, Merlin. There’s not much time. My father is searching the castle for you.”_

The lump on the floor stirred, his head moving only because of the strongest application of will. The constant thrumming of pain had him opening his eyes only a little to stare up at the prince. “ _What?_ ”

Arthur grabbed him and hauled him to his feet, ignoring the leaching of the color from his face. Ignoring the way his body swayed, his obvious pain. Part of him desperately wanted to force Merlin into the bed, covering him up in mounds of blankets, ordering him to sleep until this malady finally gave him the reprieve everyone else in Camelot enjoyed.

That part was drowned out by what he knew would happen should he do so. “ _You have to go. Now._ ” Worry sharpened his voice but he could do nothing about it as realization dawned in the other man’s eyes. Realizing the seriousness of the situation he was in.

“ _Explain,_ ” he pleaded even as he used the tiniest amount of magic to purge his head as much as he could. The malingering affects of Morgause’s magic sickness pulling him down. Gaius thought it had something to do with the amount of magic Merlin had within.

 _“Look, Morgana tried her best to vouch for you but it’s no use. Until we can prove that you weren’t in league with Morgause, father’s out for your blood. You have to go. Guinevere’s sent Lancelot a message. He’ll take you somewhere safe until I send for you. Please, Merlin, if you value our friendship in any way, you will not come back – even in disguise. Just this once, trust me._ ”

Staring into the blue eyes of the Prince, he could read the desperation there. The fierce desire to prove himself worthy of the trust Merlin had placed in him after the revelation of who they really were. They had been through so much together that it was hard to leave. He trusted him – but did he trust him enough? Such an emotion did not come easily to him, never had, and in this life cycle, it was especially difficult.

But Arthur asked so little of him as a friend, what else could he do?

For the first time, he placed his faith in the power and strength of another and hoped that it would be rewarded. “ _I will wait for your word, Arthur._ ”

Arthur searched his eyes, needing to know the truth before he relaxed, seeing what he wanted. “ _Take the bag and go. Wait until you hear from me. I will **not** fail you in this, Merlin. You have my word._ ”

_I beseech thee…_

“ _Abraham, what is happening_?” Greta asked as he hurried into their apartment. His normally calm face filled with worry. A slight frown creased her brow, this wasn’t right. This wasn’t how it happened…it was different that day. Pain spiked through her mind as she tried to remember and her vision went hazy, breathing became difficult. She focused on him because he was the only thing tethering her to reality.

“ _We need to leave, Greta. I stayed to long as it is._ ” His voice seemed far away even as he moved towards her.

Her hand touched his shoulder, feeling the fear coming off him in waves. Of all the things he was, easily scared was not one of them. Breathing deeply, she stepped closer and embraced him. Focusing on the moment, she pushed back the feeling that something was wrong. “ _Is this the Nazis?_ ”

“ _Something far worse than the Nazis are coming for me, Greta. Something that they should fear and do not have enough **sense** to_ ,” his voice was grim as he leaned into the offered comfort. “ _We must get out of this city for it is no longer safe._ ”

“ _You will come with me to pick up Klaus. We can go to the mountains for a vacation_.”

“ _I just hope no one will be harmed because of me_.”

“ _Do you wish me to spirit us away_?”

Abraham knew how much those words cost her. The last time she’d exerted any great magic, she had gone blue and locked herself away.  She had refused to look at herself, refused to allow him to see or approach her.  Even now, recalling the words she calling herself all kinds of horrible things, he shuddered at the level of disgust she'd leveled at herself. Monster was the nicest of them, he rather hoped she did not hear what those around them called her because they believed that she was Jewish.  “ _My dear, I will not ask you to do anything that you are uncomfortable with_.”

“ _The only thing I do not wish is to lose you_.”

_I implore thee…_

She stepped off the train, Marlene held tightly in her arms, Klaus’ hand in hers. Looking around, the bleak atmosphere and harsh buildings chilled her. Plums of smoke curled up into the air, smelling vaguely of death and destruction. Something unnatural and evil was happening in those buildings. Her hold tightened upon her children, looking around and seeing only soldiers.

_No way out…_

Closing her eyes, she swallowed and stumbled forward when the soldier behind her gave her a harsh shove. Magic curled and died for she had her children and could not risk harming them. Walking in the direction they were herded, she shifted uneasily, feeling the cold for perhaps the first time ever. Winding around her feet, hands grabbed her, desperate to stop her from moving forward. Slowing down, she looked and could see nothing…nothing but shades and shadows before she was pushed again.

“ _Give us the children. They must be judged_.”

“ _Judged_?” she repeated slowly, staring at the man in the crisp uniform before her. On his left arm, the swastika was proudly showing. Chill filled her and she tried to step back. The harsh hands on her shoulders stopped her. “ _Judged for what_?”

“ _You have no right to question us, Jew_.”

She flinched, the word uttered as a curse, as a foul word…Jotuns are monstrous. Her tongue felt leaden in her mouth, mind sluggish to respond to what she saw before her.

One of the men pulled Marlene from her arms. Another ripped Klaus’ hand from her grasp. “ _No! They are mine!_ ” she yelled and the soldier behind her shoved her to her knees, the boot landing on her back when she tried to rise. Magic coiled up and around, swirling at her fingers, and she stared at it, hate filling her eyes before a boot slammed down hard on her hand. The crunching of bones filled her ears and she gasped, pain swimming through her senses.

 _“Mama!_ ”

It was Klaus and she moved her head over to see her children struggling against the hold of the soldiers. Marlene trying to break free. Klaus biting and scratching his captor.

“ _If you wish your mother to live, you will stop your useless struggles. I have your father. If you do not comply, he will be punished for your actions._ ”

Face scraping against the concrete, she turned and saw the one her husband feared. Johann Schmidt walked over and stared down at her. “ _Order your children to stand down,_ ” he commanded.

“ _Klaus, Marlene…we will be all right. Please, go with the soldiers and do as they say. I will see you soon._ ” A lie had never felt so leaden on her tongue before as she watched the fight leave her children, reading the fear on their faces. They were her children and with that came some of her abilities. Twisting inside, pain coiled and wound, tightening its hold upon her heart. She watched them leave before she returned her attention to the man standing over her.

“ _I want her taken to my quarters. For the moment, no further harm is to happen to her_.”

**_“Help!”_ **

But the voice was neither Marlene’s nor Klaus’.

________________________________________

Fiery ice shot through her veins and she screamed, glass shattering around. Twisting about, she found she couldn’t move much, not even to get away from the bunched up fabric underneath her. Still, she tried to get away. There was something about this that was wrong. She should not be here, should not be held captive. Something dripped onto her face, burning and fierce against her eyes, she breathed out a stream of words and it froze then exploded.

By her head, a curse was uttered. “Not again,” the voice muttered angrily. “Cut along the ribs. Let’s see what we can find out.”

The ground beneath them rocked, a shelf fell over in the chaos, and a frantic voice called for aid as smoke and fire raced along the ground. Harsh coughing filled the room and windows were opened. But the smoke remained, increasing in thickness and acridness.

“This is insane! We have to get out of here!”

“We’re not stopping so close to our answer,” the words were snapped out.

“What good is an answer if we aren’t **alive** to tell anyone about it, Dr. Trask?”

“If you can’t handle this then…”

“Party’s over,” Agent Coulson’s voice was cold as he stepped into the room. The smoke was pushed back by Storm before S.H.I.E.L.D. agents entered, quickly taking them into custody. “I don’t pity you when General O’Neill sees what you’ve done to his friend, not to mention Stark.”

“Step back,” he warned. Over Luka’s head, he held a bottle of sulfuric acid. The look he shot them was more than a little half mad but it was enough that the agents stopped, uncertain about what to do. “Right now, I hold the ace.”

“Wouldn’t agree with that, doc,” the low growl that was Wolverine’s voice was his only warning before his world went black. He snatched the bottle up before it did any more damage, putting it aside before he quickly severed the straps and chains holding her captive. Looking at her, he hid the wince as he realized how bad this was. Chopped flesh, bones protruding from muscles and skin in a way that no bones ever should, her face burned…he shook his head as he stepped back. This was not good – not good at all.

It was ‘Nam all over again for her.

________________________________________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Lævísi Loki – cunning-wise Loki._   
>  _Hveðrungr – an alternate for Loki with debatable meanings._   
>  _Lokebrenna – ‘burning done by Loki’, ‘Loki’s torch’, and ‘Loki’s brand’. I found it in a story about Loki, named Lokebrenna. It was a Christmas Special written by Oceanbreeze7 on fanfiction.net._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _Yes, there is such a thing as blue amber – I looked it up and it changes colors depending on the light around it. I wanted Hela to have a distinctive eye color that acknowledged both her mother – Angrboda – and her father – Loki. She calls him mother-father because of his gender fluidity._
> 
>  
> 
> _And yes, I re-wrote the BBC’s Merlin episode “The Fires of Idirsholas” without really re-writing it here. Suffice it to say that Merlin couldn’t sacrifice Morgana’s life so easily and told her what he suspected. She believed him and was justifiably angry with what Morgause had done to her. Together, they found something in Gaius’ lab that mimicked death so well that Morgause was fooled and thus, Camelot was spared._

**Author's Note:**

> This is the only Loki/Thor romantically inclined stuff in the story. Sorry, I just can't wrap my mind around the two as a couple - especially as I've drawn Loki's upbringing here.
> 
> The thing with Sif's hair. I figured as an older society who was probably focused on a woman's chasteness, if she lost her virginity, there would be some mark. A maiden has long hair. If she were unchaste, it would be cut and the color would change to the opposite of her original. Hope that works.


End file.
